ed with a "mighty rushing wind."

She knelt down again, but could not bring herself to close her eyes
completely. From under her lids she still watched her sister and
Jadwin. How Laura must be feeling now! She was, in fact, very pale.
There was emotion in Jadwin's eyes. Page could see them plainly. It
seemed beautiful that even he, the strong, modern man-of-affairs,
should be so moved. How he must love Laura. He was fine, he was noble;
and all at once this fineness and nobility of his so affected her that
she began to cry again. Then suddenly came the words:

"... That in the world to come ye may have life everlasting. Amen."

There was a moment's silence, then the group about the altar rail broke
up.

"Come," said Aunt Wess', getting to her feet, "it's all over, Page.
Come, and kiss your sister--Mrs. Jadwin."

In the vestry room Laura stood for a moment, while one after another of
the wedding party--even Mr. Cressler--kissed her. When Page's turn
came, the two sisters held each other in a close embrace a long moment,
but Laura's eyes were always dry. Of all present she was the least
excited.

"Here's something," vociferated the ubiquitous clerk, pushing his way
forward. "It was on the table when we came out just now. The sexton
says a messenger boy brought it. It's for Mrs. Jadwin."

He handed her a large box. Laura opened it. Inside was a great sheaf of
Jacqueminot roses and a card, on which was written:

"May that same happiness which you have always inspired in the lives
and memories of all who know you be with you always.

"Yrs. S. C."

The party, emerging from the church, hurried across the street to the
Dearborns' home, where Laura and Jadwin were to get their valises and
hand bags. Jadwin's carriage was already at the door.

They all assembled in the parlor, every one talking at once, while the
servants, bare-headed, carried the baggage down to the carriage.

"Oh, wait--wait a minute, I'd forgotten something," cried Laura.

"What is it? Here, I'll get it for you," cried Jadwin and Cressler as
she started toward the door. But she waved them off, crying:

"No, no. It's nothing. You wouldn't know where to look."

Alone she ran up the stairs, and gained the second story; then paused a
moment on the landing to get her breath and to listen. The rooms near
by were quiet, deserted. From below she could hear the voices of the
others--their laughter and gaiety. She turned about, and went from room
to roo