Dalaber could have sung aloud in the gladness of his heart.

She was his own, his very own; and what a life they would live together! No cloud should ever touch their happiness, or mar their perfect concord.

They were one in body, soul, and spirit, and nothing could come between them since they had so united their lives in one.
It was very dark as he turned at last into the familiar doorway, and mounted the dim staircase towards his own room--the lodging he and Hugh Fitzjames shared together.

But just now Fitzjames was absent, paying one of his frequent visits to the Langtons.

Dalaber had spoken to him there only a short while since, and he was therefore surprised to see a line of light gleaming out from under his door; for, since he was out, who else could be in possession of his room?
Opening the door hastily, he uttered a cry of surprise and welcome, and advanced with outstretched hands.
"Master Garret! You have come!" The small, keen-faced priest with the eyes of fire came out of the circle of lamplight and took the extended hands.
"I have come, Anthony Dalaber; I have come, as I said.