She is looking younger than ever and radiant.

She is looking, indeed, beautiful.
There is not a woman in the room to compare with her; and few in all England outside it.
The past week has opened out to her a little path that she feels she may tread with light feet.

The cousin, the handsome, the admirable cousin! What a chance he affords for--vengeance! vengeance on that little fool over there, who has _dared_ to step in and rob her--Marian Bethune--of her prey! "Haven't you noticed ?" says she, laughing lightly, and bending so close to Rylton as almost to touch his ear with her lips.

"No?
Oh, silly boy!" "What do you mean ?" asks Rylton a little warmly.
"And after so many days! Why, we _all_ have guessed it long ago." "I'm not good at conundrums," coldly.
"But this is such an easy one.

Why, the handsome cousin is in love with the charming little wife, that is all." "You say everyone has been talking about it," says Rylton.