orhood ties are
something they know little about in cities."

His mother smiled up at him bravely. "There'll be other things."

"Perhaps;" he patted her hand. Then he fired a question at Anne. "Do you
think I ought to go?"

"How can I tell?" Her eyes met his candidly. "I felt when you came that I
couldn't understand how a man could bury himself here. And now I am
wondering how you can leave. It seems as if you belong."

"I know what you mean."

She went on: "And I can't quite think of this dear lady alone."

Nancy stopped her. "Don't speak of that, my dear. I don't want you to
speak of it. It is right that Richard should go."

Anne was telling herself passionately that it was not right, when Beulah
sent for her, and presently the little bride came down in her going-away
gown, to be joined by Eric in the stiff clothes which seemed to rob him
of the picturesqueness which belonged to him in less formal moments.

But Richard had no eyes for the bride and groom; he saw only Anne at the
head of the stairway where he had first talked to her. How long ago it
seemed, and how sweet she had been, and how shy.

The train was on the bridge, and a laughing crowd hurried out into the
night to meet it. Peggy in the lead threw roses with a prodigal hand.
"Kiss me, Beulah," she begged at the last.

Beulah bent down to her, then was lifted in Eric's strong arms to the
platform. Then the train drew out and she was gone!

Alone on the stairway, Anne and Richard had a moment before the crowd
swept back upon them.

"Dr. Brooks, take your mother with you."

"She won't go."

"Then stay with her."

He caught at the edge of her flowing sleeve, and held it as if he would
anchor her to him. "Do you want me to stay?"

Her eyes came up to him. She saw in them something which lifted her
above and beyond her doubts of him. She had an ineffable sense of having
found something which she could never lose.

Then as he drew back he was stammering, "Forgive me. I have been wanting
to wish you happiness. Geoffrey told me----"

And now Peggy bore down upon them and all the heedless happy crowd, and
Richard said, "Good-night," and was gone.

Yet when she was left alone, Anne felt desperately that she should have
shouted after him, "I am not going to marry Geoffrey Fox. I am not going
to be married at all."

CHAPTER XV

_In Which Anne Asks and Jimmie Answers._

"'A MONEYLESS man,'" said Uncle Rod, "'goes quickly through the ma