blet
of grape-juice in which the party had previously toasted the bride and
groom, and raised the glass on high.

"Hear! Hear!" cried Ann Hicks. "The bride speaks."

"This is a good omen," declared Jennie clinging to Henri's arm. "Our Ruth
was wounded in France and has been in danger on many occasions, as we all
know. Never has she more gracefully escaped disaster, nor been aided by a
more chivalrous cavalier. Drink! Drink to Ruth Fielding and to Chessleigh
Copley! They are two very lucky people, for that ceiling might have
cracked their crowns."

They drank the toast--most of them with much laughter.

"Some orator, Jennie," commented Helen. "We are just beginning to
appreciate you."

"You will all be sorry that you did not treat me better--especially as a
chee-ild," returned the plump bride, with mock solemnity. "Think! Think
how you all used to abuse my--my appetite at Briarwood Hall. It is only
Mammy Rose who is kind to me," and she pointed to the old colored woman's
gift that had a place of honor before her own plate and that of Major
Marchand's.

"Let me give a toast," cried Helen gaily. "Let us drink to Jennie's
appetite--long may it wave."

"Goodness me! Don't speak of waves and appetite in the same breath, I
beg. Remember we are going directly aboard ship from the house and--and I
never was a good sailor. Waves! Ugh!"

The fun went on while the serving people swept up the debris and removed
those dishes that had been covered with dust.

Aside, Ruth, taking for the moment little part in the chatter and
merriment, for she had received a considerable shock, stood talking with
Copley. Ruth had given him her hand again and Chess clung to it rather
more warmly--so the watchful Tom thought--than was needful. But the girl
felt that she really had a great deal to thank Copley for.

"Jennie in her fun spoke quite truly," Ruth said in a low voice. "You are
a friend in need."

"And I hope you consider me a friend indeed, Ruth," rejoined the young
fellow.

"I certainly do," agreed the girl of the Red Mill with her customary
frank smile.

"I--I am afraid," Chess added, "that I am not considered in that light by
all your friends, Ruth. Helen Cameron hasn't spoken to me to-day."

"No? Is it serious?"

"It is serious when a fellow gets turned down--snubbed--and not a word of
explanation offered. And, in the words of the old song, we were
'companions once, but strangers now'."

"Oh, don't mind. Helen usually