in their ears, and
with Alan Stair to speak the solemn words that joined their lives
together, and when the little intimate luncheon which followed the
ceremony was over, they drove away in Max's car to the wild, beautiful
coast of Cornwall, there to spend the first perfect days of their married
life.

And they were perfect days! Afterwards, when clouds had dimmed the
radiance of the sun, and doubts and ugly questionings were beating up on
every side, Diana had always that radiant fortnight by the Cornish
sea--she and Max alone together--to look back upon.

The woman whose married life holds sorrow, and who has no such golden
memory stored away, is bereft indeed!

On their return to London, the Erringtons established themselves at Lilac
Lodge, a charming old-fashioned house in Hampstead, where the
creeper-clad walls and great bushes of lilac reminded Diana pleasantly of
the old Rectory at Crailing. Jerry made one of the household--"resident
secretary" as he proudly termed himself, and his cheery, good-humoured
presence was invaluable whenever difficulties arose.

But at first there were few, indeed, of the latter to contend with.
Owing to the illness of an important member of the cast, without whose
services Adrienne declined to perform, the production of Max's new play,
"Mrs. Fleming's Husband," was delayed until the autumn. This
postponement left him free to devote much more of his time to his wife
than would otherwise have been possible, and for the first few months
after their marriage it seemed as though no shadow could ever fall
athwart their happiness.

In this respect Baroni's prognostications of evil had failed to
materialise, but his fears that marriage would interfere with Diana's
musical career were better founded. Quite easily and naturally she
slipped out of the professional life which had just been opening its
doors to her. She felt no inclination to continue singing in public.
Max filled her existence, and although she still persevered with her
musical training under Baroni, she told him with a frank enjoyment of the
situation that she was far too happy and enjoying herself far too much to
have any desire at present to take up the arduous work of a public singer!

Baroni was immeasurably disappointed, and not all Diana's assurances that
in a year, or two at most, she would go back into harness once more
sufficed to cheer him.

"A year--two years!" he exclaimed. "Two years lost at the critic