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Aunt Hannah's sake； at leastthat he was in
no worse place than on his own couch at home。
Anyhow； she went； and in half an hour they
blandly informed Aunt Hannah that they were
going to be married to…day。
‘‘Aunt Hannah said she tried to stop that； and
get them to put it off till October （the original
date； you know）； but Bertram was obdurate。
And when he declared he'd marry her the next
day if it wasn't for the new license law； Aunt
Hannah said she gave up for fear he'd get a special
dispensation； or go to the Governor or the President；
or do some other dreadful thing。 （What a
funny old soul Aunt Hannah is！） Bertram told
_me_ that he should never feel safe till Billy was
really his； that she'd read something； or hear
something； or think something； or get a letter
from me （as if anything _I_ could say would do
any good…or harm！）； and so break the engagement
again。
‘‘Well； she's his now； so I suppose he's
satisfied； though； for my part； I haven't changed my
mind at all。 I still say that they are not one bit
suited to each other； and that matrimony will
simply ruin his career。 Bertram never has loved
and never will love any girl longexcept to
paint。 But if he simply _would_ get married； why
couldn't he have taken a nice； sensible domestic
girl that would have kept him fed and
mended？
‘‘Not but that I'm very fond of Billy； as you
know； dear； but imagine Billy as a wifeworse
yet； a mother！ Billy's a dear girl； but she knows
about as much of real life and its problems as
as our little Kate。 A more impulsive； irresponsible；
regardless…of…consequences young woman I
never saw。 She can play divinely； and write
delightful songs； I'll acknowledge； but what is that
when a man is hungry； or has lost a button？
‘‘Billy has had her own way； and had everything
she wanted for years nowa rather dangerous
preparation for marriage； especially marriage
to a fellow like Bertram who has had _his_
own way and everything _he's_ wanted for years。
Pray； what's going to happen when those ways
conflict； and neither one gets the thing wanted？
‘‘And think of her ignorance of cookingbut；
there！ What's the use？ They're married now；
and it can't be helped。
‘‘Mercy； what a letter I've written！ But I；
had to talk to some one； besides； I'd promised I
to let you know how matters stood as soon as I
could。 As you see； though； my trip East has been
practically useless。 I saw the wedding； to be
sure； but I didn't prevent it； or even postpone
itthough I meant to do one or the other； else
I should never have made that tiresome journey
half across the continent at two hours' notice。
‘‘However； we shall see what we shall see。 As
for me； I'm dead tired。 Good night。
‘‘Affectionately yours；
‘‘KATE。''
Quite naturally； Mrs。 Kate Hartwell was not
the only one who was thinking that evening of
the wedding。 In the home of Bertram's brother
Cyril； Cyril himself was at the piano； but where
his thoughts were was plain to be seenor
rather； heard； for from under his fingers there
came the Lohengrin wedding march until all the
room seemed filled with the scent of orange
blossoms； the mistiness of floating veils； and the
echoing peals of far…away organs heralding the
‘‘Fair Bride and Groom。''
Over by the table in the glowing circle of the
shaded lamp； sat Marie； Cyril's wife； a dainty
sewing…basket by her side。 Her hands； however；
lay idly across the stocking in her lap。
As the music ceased； she drew a long sigh。
What a perfectly beautiful wedding that
was！ she breathed。
Cyril whirled about on the piano stool。
‘‘It was a very sensible wedding；'' he said with
emphasis。
‘‘They looked so happyboth of them；''
went on Marie； dreamily； ‘‘soso sort of above
and beyond everything about them； as if nothing
ever； ever could trouble them_now_。''
Cyril lifted his eyebrows。
‘‘Humph！ Well； as I said before； it was a very
_sensible_ wedding；'' he declared。
This time Marie noticed the emphasis。 She
laughed； though her eyes looked a little troubled。
‘‘I know； dear； of course； what you mean。 _I_
thought our wedding was beautiful； but I would
have made it simpler if I'd realized in time how
youyou''
‘‘How I abhorred pink teas and purple
pageants；'' he finished for her； with a frowning
smile。 ‘‘Oh； well； I stood itfor the sake of
what it brought me。'' His face showed now only
the smile； the frown had vanished。 For a man
known for years to his friends as a ‘‘hater of
women and all other confusion；'' Cyril Henshaw
was looking remarkably well…pleased with himself。
His wife of less than a year colored as she
met his gaze。 Hurriedly she picked up her
needle。
The man laughed happily at her confusion。
‘‘What are you doing？ Is that my stocking？''
he demanded。
A look； half pain； half reproach； crossed her
face。
‘‘Why； Cyril； of course not！ Youyou told
me not to； long ago。 You said my darns made
bunches。
‘‘Ho！ I meant I didn't want to _wear_ them；''
retorted the man； upon whom the tragic wretchedness
of that half…sobbed ‘‘bunches'' had been
quite lost。 ‘‘I love to see you _mending_ them；''
he finished； with an approving glance at the
pretty little picture of domesticity before him。
A peculiar expression came to Marie's eyes。
Why； Cyril； you mean you _like_ to have me
mend them just forfor the sake of seeing me
do it； when you _know_ you won't ever wear
them？''
‘‘Sure！'' nodded the man； imperturbably。
Then； with a sudden laugh； he asked： ‘‘I wonder
now； does Billy love to mend socks？''
Marie smiled； but she sighed； too； and shook
her head。
‘‘I'm afraid not； Cyril。''
‘‘Nor cook？''
Marie laughed outright this time。 The vaguely
troubled look had fled from her eyes
‘‘Oh； Billy's helped me beat eggs and butter
sometimes； but I never knew her to cook a thing
or want to cook a thing； but once； then she
spent nearly two weeks trying to learn to make
puddingsfor you。''
‘‘For _me！_''
Marie puckered her lips queerly。
‘‘Well； I supposed they were for you at the
time。 At all events she was trying to make them
for some one of you boys； probably it was really
for Bertram； though。''
‘‘Humph！'' grunted Cyril。 Then； after a
minute； he observed： ‘‘I judge Kate thinks
Billy'll never make themfor anybody。 I'm
afraid Sister Kate isn't pleased。''
‘‘Oh； but Mrs。 Hartwell waswas disappointed
in the wedding；'' apologized Marie；
quickly。 ‘‘You know she wanted it put off
anyway； and she didn't like such a simple one。
‘‘Hm…m； as usual Sister Kate forgot it wasn't
her funeralI mean； her wedding；'' retorted
Cyril； dryly。 ‘‘Kate is never happy； you know；
unless she's managing things。''
‘‘Yes； I know；'' nodded Marie； with a frowning
smile of recol