wet eyes, and she wanted to hug him for pity of him and
pride in him, but she could not decide to do it. They went out to
lunch at the Woman's Exchange, and the only regret Peter had was that
it was so long past the season of strawberry shortcake, and that
Charlotte seemed neither to talk nor to listen; she ought to have done
one or the other.

They had left the Vaneckens busy with their summer trunks at the far
end of the northward corridor, where their wireless station had been
re-established for Charlotte's advantage, though she had not thought
of it the whole short morning long. When she came back from lunch the
Vaneckens were just brushing away the crumbs of theirs, which the son
and brother seemed to have brought in for them in a paper box; at any
rate, he was now there, making believe to help them.

Mrs. Forsyth had promised to come, but she came so late in the
afternoon that she owned she had been grudgingly admitted at the
office, and she was rather indignant about it. By this time, without
having been West for three months, Peter had asked a question which
had apparently never been asked before, and Charlotte had as newly
answered it. "And now, mother," she said, while Mrs. Forsyth passed
from indignant to exultant, "I want to be married right away, before
Peter changes his mind about taking me West with him. Let us go home
at once. You always said I should have a home wedding."

"What a ridiculous idea!" Mrs. Forsyth said, more to gain time than
anything else. She added, "Everything is at sixes and sevens in the
flat. There wouldn't be standing-room." A sudden thought flashed upon
her, which, because it was sudden and in keeping with her character,
she put into tentative words. "You're more at home _here_ than
anywhere else. You were almost born here. You've played about here
ever since you were a child. You first met Peter here. He proposed to
you here, and you rejected him here. He's proposed here again, and
you've accepted him, you say--"

"Mother!" Charlotte broke in terribly upon her. "Are you suggesting
that I should be married in a storage warehouse? Well, I haven't
fallen quite so low as that yet. If I can't have a _home_ wedding, I
will have a _church_ wedding, and I will wait till doomsday for it if
necessary."

"I don't know about doomsday," Mrs. Forsyth said, "but as far as
to-day is concerned, it's too late for a church wedding. Peter, isn't
there something about canonical hours? And isn't