himself to the end of his days the only properly attired man in the
church.

The younger Wilson was to be one of the ushers. When the newspapers came
out with the published list and this was discovered, as well as that
Sidney was the maid of honor, there was a distinct quiver through the
hospital training-school. A probationer was authorized to find out
particulars. It was the day of the wedding then, and Sidney, who had
not been to bed at all, was sitting in a sunny window in the Dormitory
Annex, drying her hair.

The probationer was distinctly uneasy.

"I--I just wonder," she said, "if you would let some of the girls come
in to see you when you're dressed?"

"Why, of course I will."

"It's awfully thrilling, isn't it? And--isn't Dr. Wilson going to be an
usher?"

Sidney colored. "I believe so."

"Are you going to walk down the aisle with him?"

"I don't know. They had a rehearsal last night, but of course I was not
there. I--I think I walk alone."

The probationer had been instructed to find out other things; so she set
to work with a fan at Sidney's hair.

"You've known Dr. Wilson a long time, haven't you?"

"Ages."

"He's awfully good-looking, isn't he?"

Sidney considered. She was not ignorant of the methods of the school. If
this girl was pumping her--

"I'll have to think that over," she said, with a glint of mischief in
her eyes. "When you know a person terribly well, you hardly know whether
he's good-looking or not."

"I suppose," said the probationer, running the long strands of Sidney's
hair through her fingers, "that when you are at home you see him often."

Sidney got off the window-sill, and, taking the probationer smilingly by
the shoulders, faced her toward the door.

"You go back to the girls," she said, "and tell them to come in and see
me when I am dressed, and tell them this: I don't know whether I am to
walk down the aisle with Dr. Wilson, but I hope I am. I see him very
often. I like him very much. I hope he likes me. And I think he's
handsome."

She shoved the probationer out into the hall and locked the door behind
her.

That message in its entirety reached Carlotta Harrison. Her smouldering
eyes flamed. The audacity of it startled her. Sidney must be very sure
of herself.

She, too, had not slept during the day. When the probationer who
had brought her the report had gone out, she lay in her long white
night-gown, hands clasped under her head, and stared at the vault-