"This," he thought, "shall not occur again." The hall doors were open, servants stood about as if waiting still.

He saw a man's figure.

Some one, beyond the stream of lamplight which came from the house, stood on the gravel, where through a window he could command a view of the staircase.
It was little past eleven, the moon was up, and as the longest day was at hand, twilight was hardly over, and only one star here and there hung out of the heavens.
"Why, that is Giles," thought Valentine.

"Strange! he cannot have sent Dorothea home alone, surely." Giles approached the steps, and Valentine, following the direction of his eyes, saw a slender figure descending the stairs.
Dorothea! She was divested now of the shimmering satin and all her bridal splendour.

How sweet and girlish she looked in this more simple array! Evidently they were going to walk home through the woods and lanes, see glow-worms and smell the hedge roses.