a honeymoon?"

"The honey is for the sweetness, and the moon is for the madness, Peggy,
dear."

"Do people always go away on trains for their honeymoons?"

"Not always. I shouldn't like a train. I should like to get into a boat
with silver sails, and sail straight down a singing river into the heart
of the sunset."

"Well, of course, you couldn't," said the plump and practical Peggy, "but
it sounds nice to say it. Does our river sing, Miss Anne?"

"Yes."

"What does it say?"

Anne stretched out her arms with a little yearning gesture. "It
says--'_Come and see the world, see the world, see the world!_'"

"It never says that to me."

"Perhaps you haven't ears to hear, Peggy."

It was a very charming wedding. Richard was there and Nancy, and David
and Brinsley. The country folk came from far and wide, and there was a
brave showing of Old Gentlemen from Bower's who brought generous gifts
for Peter's pretty daughter.

Richard, standing back of his mother during the ceremony, could see over
her head to where Anne waited not far from Peggy to prompt her in her
bridesmaid's duties. She was in white. Her dark hair was swept up in the
fashion which she had borrowed from Eve. She seemed very small and slight
against the background of Bower's buxom kinsfolk.

As he caught her eye he smiled at her, but she did not smile back. She
felt that she could not. How could he smile with that little mother
drooping before his very eyes? How _could_ he?

She found herself later, when the refreshments were served, brooding over
Nancy. The little lady tasted nothing, but was not permitted to refuse
the cup of tea which Anne brought to her.

"I had it made especially for you," she said; "you looked so tired."

"I am tired. You see we are having rather strenuous days."

"I know."

"It isn't easy to let--him--go."

"It isn't easy for anybody to let him go."

The eyes of the two women went to where Richard in the midst of a
protesting group was trying to explain his reasons for deserting
Crossroads.

He couldn't explain. They had a feeling that he was turning his back on
them. "It's hard lines to have a good doctor and then lose him," was the
general sentiment. He was made to feel that it would have been better not
to have come than to end by deserting.

He was aware that he had forfeited something precious, and he voiced his
thought when he joined his mother and Anne.

"I'll never have a practice quite like this. Neighb