. and Mrs. Alfred Carson. Of Hugh Benson, as best man, Matthew
Kendrick heartily approved. "You've chosen the nugget of pure gold,
Dick," he said, "where you might have been expected to take one with
considerable alloy. He's worth all the others put together."

Richard had never realized this more thoroughly than when, on Christmas
afternoon, he invited Benson to drive with him for a last inspection of
a certain spot which had been prepared for the reception of the bridal
pair at the first stage of their journey. He could not, as Hugh took his
place beside him and the two whirled away down the frost-covered avenue,
imagine asking any other man in the world to go with him on such a
visit. There was no other man he knew who would not have made it the
occasion for more or less distasteful raillery; but Hugh Benson was of
the rarely few, he felt, who would understand what that "stout little
cabin" meant to him.

They came upon it presently, standing bleak and bare as to exterior upon
its hilltop, with only a streaming pillar of smoke from its big chimney
to suggest that it might be habitable within. But when the heavy door
was thrown open, an interior of warmth and comfort presented itself such
as brought an exclamation of wonder from the guest, and made Richard's
eyes shine with satisfaction.

The long, low room had been furnished simply but fittingly with such
hangings, rugs, and few articles of furniture as should suggest
home-likeness and service. Before the wide hearth stood two big winged
chairs, and a set of bookshelves was filled with a carefully chosen
collection of favourite books. The colourings were warm but harmonious,
and upon a heavy table, now covered with a rich, dull red cloth, stood a
lamp of generous proportions and beauty of design.

"I've tried to steer a line between luxury and austerity," Richard
explained, as Hugh looked about him with pleased observation. "We shall
not be equipped for real roughing it--not this time, though sometimes we
may like to come here dressed as hunters and try living on bare boards.
I just wanted it to seem like a bit of home, when she comes in to-night.
There'll be some flowers here then, of course--lots of them, and that
ought to give it the last touch. There are always flowers in her home,
bowls of them, everywhere--it was one of the first things I noticed. Do
you think she will like it here?" he ended, with a hint of almost boyish
diffidence in his tone.

"Like it?