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Fenella, too, had been apprehensive about meeting her aunt again.

“You see, Rosemary, I just can’t feel towards her like I used to, and I’m afraid it will show and—and make things difficult,” she explained unhappily.

“It might—if Mrs. Franks made an issue of it. But she won’t,” Rosemary said confidently. “Take my word for that, Fenella! Her one wish will be to smooth everything over so that no one’s embarrassed. So will you just follow my lead and, Fenella—” she laid her hand affectionately on Fenella’s shoulder, “if you don’t love her like you used to, you can surely feel sufficiently sorry for her to want to make things as easy as possible. After all, she’s lost both you and Anthony through her own actions, and in her way she’s always been very fond of you both.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Fenella acknowledged. “And anyhow, as you once said, I can afford to be generous—I’ve got Martin—I’m happy! ”

Rosemary patted her shoulder.

“Keep that in mind, honey, and you’ll make out all right!” she said approvingly. “And remember, if anybody does think you’re behaving a bit oddly, they’ll simply put it down to wedding nerves!”

And indeed, it turned out not to be so difficult after all. Rosemary and Anthony kissing Aunt Gina so naturally; Captain Franks so proud of his wife and so evidently unaware that there had ever been any trouble —Fenella found it quite easy to take the initiative, kiss Aunt Gina, and wish her every happiness in her marriage.

Her poise took Gina Franks by surprise, as Martin noted with considerable satisfaction. Personally, he thought Gina had behaved pretty badly and didn’t deserve the consideration she was being shown. But he was adult enough to realise that it was better to keep the family peace—so long as his Fenella wasn’t in danger of being dominated as she had been in the past. Well, he’d see to it that she wasn’t, but this show of finesses in what was really rather a difficult situation was tremendously reassuring.

Later that evening, when dinner was over, Martin told them the concluding events in a story that had begun so long ago. He told it well, and Fenella glowed with pride. During the last four weeks Martin had worked all hours to complete his book, and Fenella herself had never been so busy. Rosemary had insisted that it must be a white wedding and although she herself took over most of the work entailed, Fenella had to spend quite a lot of time having fittings, which seemed such a waste of time when she wanted every minute to complete her drawings for Martin’s book so that they both finished together.

Now all that was done—tomorrow she would wear that lovely dress and they would be married in the glorious old church that must have been there even before the first Martin Adair had come to Fairhaven—

“And so," Martin concluded, “all these years, the miniature, the cause of so much suffering, has been close at hand all the time—in the Prosser flour bin! Yes, Anthony?''

Anthony slipped something into his hand.

“Let’s finish up in style," he suggested. “Complete the job the first Martin wasn't able to !''

Martin looked down at the little leather case.

“It’s been one of the dreams of my life to hold this in my hand,'' he said slowly. “And then to pass it on to the descendant of the man it should have reached a hundred and seventy-five years ago ! Captain Franks—!''

Captain Franks stood up and took the miniature from him. For a moment he stood looking down at the two lovely faces in it.

“Poor child!" he said gently. “What a tragedy! With all their lives before them—I don't know how to thank you, Adair, for all you've gone through to get hold of this! I'll treasure it all the more on that account. My dear, look!" and he put it into Aunt Gina’s hands.

“Let’s clear out,” Martin whispered in Fenella's ear. “I’ve done my stuff—I deserve a break—come on!”

Unnoticed, so they hoped, they stole out of the drawing room into the quiet of the garden. It was just such another evening as the one on which he had first kissed her—a night for lovers, a night when a full moon swam serenely in a cloudless sky, the gentlest of breezes roamed through the trees and in the distance, the sound of the sea.

Then, it had made Fenella realise how empty her life was. Now, beautiful though the scene was, it hadn't the same importance. It was an exquisite background for their happiness, but it was a happiness too deep and too wonderful for them to need any more than the fact that they were together to make life perfect.

Nor were any words necessary to convey their thoughts to one another.

Hand in hand they reached the point in the path where it turned sharply and was hidden from the house by a hedge. Martin came to a halt and glanced back over his shoulder.

“You know. I’ve a feeling we’ve got an interested audience watching us,” he remarked as if he found the fact amusing. “Let’s give them their money’s worth, shall we?”

His arms closed round her and she felt his lips seek hers.

Gladly, she yielded to their demand, her heart on her lips—

Indifferent to whether they were being watched or not, it seemed as if the world stood still for them.

Then, very softly, Martin spoke,

“Tomorrow, my love!”

And joyously, confidently, Fenella whispered her reply:

“Tomorrow—and all the tomorrows after it!”