t with her hand on his shoulder,
then stooped and shyly kissed his forehead.

"You always understand," she said. "And I love you for it. There!"

"I am glad, dear," he said gently.

But he did not look particularly elated notwithstanding. There had been
moments in their recent conversation when, so far from understanding her,
he had felt utterly and completely at a loss. He had not the heart to
tell her so, for he knew that she was quite incapable of explaining
herself; but the fact remained. And he wondered with a vague misgiving if
he had yet succeeded--if, indeed, he ever would wholly succeed--in
finding his way along the many intricate windings that led to her inmost
heart.

CHAPTER XVI

MARRIED

It was certainly the quietest wedding of the season. People said that
this was due to the bridegroom's well-known dislike of publicity; but,
whatever the reason, the secret was well kept, and when Chris came out of
the church on her husband's arm there was only Bertrand, standing
uncovered by the carriage-door, to give her greeting.

She was smiling as she came, but it was rather a piteous smile. She had
faced the ordeal with a desperate courage, but she had not found it easy.
Only Trevor's steadfast strength had held her up. She had been conscious
of his will acting upon hers throughout. With the utmost calmness he had
quelled her agitation, had stilled the wild flutter of her nerves, had
compelled her to a measure of composure. And now that it was over she
felt that he was still in a fashion holding her back, controlling her,
till she should have recovered her normal state of mind and be in a
condition to control herself.

But the sight of Bertrand diverted her thoughts. Owing to her aunt's
strenuous prohibition, she had not met him since the night of her
birthday dance. She broke from Mordaunt to give him both her hands.

"Oh, Bertie," she cried, between tears and laughter, "it is good to see
you again!"

He bent very low, so low that she only saw the top of his black head.
"Permit me to offer my felicitations," he said, in a voice that was
scarcely audible.

Her hands closed tightly for a second upon his. "You are pleased,
Bertie?" she said, with a quickening of the breath.

He straightened himself instantly; he looked into her eyes. "But you are
happy, yes?" he questioned.

"Of course," she told him hurriedly.

He smiled--the ready smile with which he had learned to mask his soul.
"_Alors_, I