gets over the mollygrubs very quickly."

Chess turned to see the other Cameron twin eyeing him with no great
favor.

However, the throng of guests who were invited to the reception began
coming in, and for the next two hours the parlors were crowded with the
many friends of the plump girl, who, as Helen had said, found this the
greatest day of her life, and there was little time for much individual
chat, though, it seemed to Tom, Chess Copley kept as close as possible to
Ruth's side.

It was after Jennie had gone to put on her traveling dress, and the
immediate wedding party, who were to accompany the bridal couple to the
dock to see them embark, were hurrying out of the room to put on street
clothes that Tom, in a low voice, demanded of Chess:

"What are you trying to do--put a label on Ruth? Don't forget she belongs
to all of us."

Chess Copley had not won his commission in the war and wore only a
sergeant's chevrons. But the war was over and he could tell his captain
just what he thought of him. And he did.

"Do you know what you are, Tom Cameron?" he drawled, smiling a hard
little smile. "You are a regular dog in the manger, and I'm frank to tell
you so!"

CHAPTER III

RICE AND OLD SHOES

"It is the greatest day in a girl's life," declared Helen Cameron,
sitting on the edge of one of the twin beds in the room she and Ruth
occupied while they were at the Stone house. She buckled her fingers
around her knee to hold one limb crossed over the other--a very mannish
and independent position. "I don't know that I ever envied Heavy before
in my life. But she has got something now that we haven't, Ruth."

"Cat's foot!" exclaimed Ann Hicks from her chair. "Who'd want a Frenchman
for a husband?"

Ruth laughed. "Not to say that Major Marchand is not a fine fellow, I
agree with Ann that I don't want a husband. Not--right--now!"

"Oh! Very well," said Helen complacently. "But if you thought you'd never
be able to get one----"

"Shucks!" exclaimed Ann. "As though our Ruth couldn't have all she wants
if she wants them."

"I really wish you would not speak plurally of them, Ann," cried Ruth,
laughing. "You will make me feel like the Queen of the Amazons. They say
she keeps a masculine harem--like a bey, or a sultan, or something of
that kind."

"Be serious," rejoined Helen. "I mean what I say. Jennie's great day has
arrived. And she is the first of all our old bunch that went to
Briarwood--and surely of