Then they followed him in their hearts along the path of glory, from Talavera by Albuera and Vittoria, across the Pyrenees.

And while they were yet reading a long-delayed letter, written from Toulouse at midnight--after having been to the theatre with Lord Wellington, wearing a white cockade--he broke in on them again, to tell them the war was well-nigh over, and that he would soon come and live with them in peace.
Then what delightful reunions were there in the old gallery window, going over all the weary campaigns once more; pleasant rambles, too, down by the river-side in the sweet May evenings, old Marmaduke and the curate discreetly walking in front, and James and Agnes loitering far behind.

And in the succeeding winter after they were married, what pleasant rides had they to meet the hounds, and merry evenings before the bright wood-fire in the hall.

Never were four people more happy than they.

The war was done, the disturber was confined, and peace had settled down upon the earth.
Peace, yes.