Once out of the house, Lord Arleigh seemed to realize for the first time
what had happened; with a gesture of despair he threw himself back in
the carriage. The footman came to him.
"Where to, my lord--to Beechgrove?"
"No," replied Lord Arleigh--"to the railway station. I want to catch the
night-mail for London."
Lord Arleigh was just in time for the train. The footman caught a
glimpse of his master's face as the train went off--it was white and
rigid.
"Of all the weddings in this world, well, this is the queerest!" he
exclaimed to himself.
When he reached Beechgrove, he told his fellow-servants what had
happened, and many were the comments offered about the marriage that was
yet no marriage--the wedding that was no wedding--the husband and wife
who were so many miles apart. What could it mean?
Chapter XXIX.
Three days after Lord Arleigh's most inauspicious marriage. The Duchess
of Hazlewood sat in her drawing-room alone. Those three days had changed
her terribly; her face had lost its bloom, the light had died from her
dark eyes, there were great lines of pain round her lips.
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