e any more time than that if we want to reach Manila in time
for the wedding."

"Oh, Hugh! We can't go to Manila!" she cried, suddenly starting to her
feet in distress. "My Uncle Harry lives there. He is my mother's only
brother and he's been there since the close of the war. He's in the hemp
business. Oh, dear! How provoking!" she concluded almost piteously.

"It's fine!" he exclaimed jubilantly. "We can be married at his home.
I'm sure he'll be happy to have us. You can write and tell him we're
coming, dear. Lord!" with great relief in his voice, "that simplifies
matters immensely. Now we have an excuse for going to Manila. But above
all things don't cable to him. Write a nice long letter and mail it just
before we start."

She was silent a long while, staring soberly at the blaze in the grate.

"There'll be no bridesmaids and ushers over there, Hugh."

"We don't want 'em."

Silence for a few minutes.

"In a week, did you say?"

"Positively."

"Well, I'll be ready," she said solemnly.

He kissed her tenderly, lovingly, pressed her cold hand and said
encouragingly:

"We'll meet in New York next Monday afternoon. Leave everything to me,
dear. It will be much pleasanter to go by way of London and it will help
to kill a good deal of time."

"Hugh," she said, smiling faintly, "I think we're proving that father
was right. I can't possibly arrive at the age of discretion until I am
twenty-three and past."

CHAPTER II

THE BEGINNING OF FLIGHT

Mr. Ridgeway paced back and forth outside the iron gates in the Grand
Central Station on the afternoon of April 1st, 190--, a smile of
anticipation and a frown of impatience alternating in his fresh, young
face. Certain lines of care seemed to have disappeared since we saw him
last, nearly a week ago, and in their stead beamed the light of a
new-found interest in life. Now and then he took from his pocket a
telegram; spectators stared amusedly at him as he read and reread:

DETROIT, MICHIGAN, March 81, 190--.

To H.B. Ridge:

Got away safely. Meet me Forty-second Street, New York, to-morrow at
three. Feel awfully queer and look a fright. Sympathetic lady, next
compartment, just offered condolences for loss of my husband. What are
the probabilities of storm? Be sure and find out before we start.

SISTER GRACE.

"Isn't that just like a girl!" he muttered to himself. "Where else would
Forty-second Street be but New York! London?"

They had decided to travel