"I know what I should like to do," said Lady Arleigh, gently.
"Then consider it done," put in her husband.
"I should like her to live with me always," said Lady Arleigh any capacity--as housekeeper, or whatever she would like. She has had so little happiness in her life, and she would find her happiness now in mine. When her unfortunate husband is free again, she can do as she likes--either go abroad with him, or we can find them a cottage and keep them near us."
So it was arranged; and there were few happier women than Margaret Dornham when she heard the news.
"I thought," she sobbed, in a broken voice, "that I should never be forgiven; and now I find that I am to be always near to the child for whose love I would have sacrificed the world."
Lord Mountdean insisted on the fullest publicity being given to Madaline's abduction.
"There is one thing," he said, "I cannot understand--and that is how you came to misunderstand each other. Why did Madaline believe that you knew all about her story when you knew nothing of it? That secret, I suppose, you will keep to yourselves?"
"Yes," replied Lord Arleigh. "The truth is, we were both cruelly deceived--it matters little by whom and how.'"
"That part of the story, then, will never be understood," said Lord Mountdean. "The rest must be made public, no matter at what cost to our feelings--there must be no privacy, no shadow over my daughter's name. You give me your full consent, Norman?"
"Certainly; I think your proposal is very wise," Lord Arleigh replied.
"Another thing, Norman--I do not wish my daughter to go home to Beechgrove until her story has been made known. Then I will see that all honor is paid to her."
So it was agreed, and great was the sensation that ensued. "The Arleigh Romance," as it was called, was carried from one end of the kingdom to the other. Every newspaper was filled with it; all other intelligence sank into insignificance when compared with it. Even the leading journals of the day curtailed their political articles to give a full account of the Arleigh romance. But it was noticeable that in no way whatsoever was the name of the Duchess of Hazlewood introduced.
The story was fairly told. It recalled to the minds of the public that some time previously Lord Arleigh had made what appeared a strange marriage, and that he had separated from his wife on their wedding-day, yet paying her such honor and respect that no one could possibly think any the worse of her for it. It reminded the world how puzzled it had been at the time; and now it gave a solution of the mystery. Through no act of deception on the part of his wife, Lord Arleigh had believed that he knew her full history; but on their wedding-day he found that she was, to all appearance, the daughter of a man who was a convict. Therefore--continued the story--the young couple had agreed to separate. Lord Arleigh, although loving his wife most dearly, felt himself compelled to part from her. He preferred that his ancient and noble race should become extinct rather than that it should be tarnished by an alliance with the offspring of crime. Lady Arleigh agreed with her husband, and took up her abode at the Dower House, surrounded by every mark of esteem and honor. Then the story reverted to the Earl of Mountdean's lost child, and how, at length, to the intense delight of the husband and father, it was discovered that Lady Arleigh was no other than the long-lost daughter of Lord Mountdean.