His death had merely removed the barrier between her and the man she loved.
But today she did not go to her tryst in spirits higher for the removal of that barrier.

She went more slowly, on heavier, lingering feet.

Her eyes were downcast, and her forehead was furrowed by an anxious, brooding frown.
The sight of Colonel Grey, waiting for her at the door of the Pavilion, smoothed the furrows from her forehead and quickened her steps.

When the door closed behind them he caught her in his arms and kissed her.

It was early in her widowhood to be kissed, but she made no protest.