e evening, and we had
the pleasantest time imaginable. He would not allow his mother to say a
word against Miss Van, and made a fair show of proving that the latter
had, not only better blood, but also better breeding and a truer sense
of propriety than my mother-in-law, that is, "when it came to the
scratch," as George said. "But who would give a snap for a young woman
who can't throw aside the shackles of conventionality once in a while,
and be herself?"

Miss Van was her own jolliest, sweetest self at this time. Her beauty
had never been so noticeable: joy is an excellent cosmetic, and love
paints far better than rouge or powder.

As soon as Mrs. Pinkerton had recovered from her defeat, and when the
engagement had become an acknowledged fact which all the world might
know, the wedding began to loom up before us, and I could not help
wondering if St. Thomas's Church was to be the scene of as fashionable
and grand a display as on the occasion when Bessie and myself were made
one.

I felt reasonably certain that Mrs. Pinkerton would make an effort to
that end, and I was curious to see how George would look on it.

Bessie, I think, would have been glad to see the marriage take place
with as much pomp and show as possible. She was intensely interested in
what Clara should wear, and every visit from that young woman was the
occasion for a vast deal of confidential and no doubt highly important
_tete-a-tete_ consultation.

Mother-in-law sailed into the library one evening with unusual celerity
of movement.

"George, dear," she said, "this cannot be true! You would not permit
such an eccentric, uncivilized proceeding. Surely you will not offend
our friends by--"

"Avast there! Our friends be hanged!" cried George wickedly. "Yes, it's
true, too true. The ceremony will be private, and no cards. You can
come, though! Next Wednesday, at two o'clock, sharp!"

This was cruel. I could see his mother almost stagger under the blow.
She attempted to remonstrate, but it was too late. George assured her
that "it was all fixed," and that Clara had agreed with him regarding
the details.

"Honest old John Stephens will tie the knot," said he, "and it will be
just as tight as if Dr. McCanon manipulated the holy bonds. I trust we
shall have the pleasure of your company, mother. Consider yourself
invited. A few of the choicest spirits will be on hand. Clara will wear
the most exquisite gray travelling suit you ever laid eyes on."