n trickled down Thad's spine. And then young Scott felt
in the other pocket and breathed a sigh of relief. "Here 'tis."

"You want to keep better track of your dates than that," exclaimed Thad
angrily. "You'll queer everything if you go feeling around in all your
pockets when he's ready for the ring." His voice took on a tone of
appeal. "Haven't you got an extra handkerchief, Scotty? If I keep on
at this rate, my collar--"

"You just keep quiet and I'll mop you up a bit," returned the obliging
Scotty, but his friendly ministrations were interrupted by a
blood-curdling whisper from the bridegroom.

"_My God, here they come._"

There was no doubt about it. The little organ was wheezing out the
wedding march as if it meant to be equal to the occasion if this proved
its swan-song. The ushers were advancing up the aisle two by two.
With drooping heads and measured steps, the bridesmaids followed, and
then came Diantha on her father's arm. The little flutter that went
over the waiting assembly was chiefly an involuntary tribute to her
girlish grace and beauty, though the dress, too, came in for its share.

"Might have been bought in Paris for all anybody could tell," was the
assurance passed from lip to lip. Clematis was proud of that wedding
dress.

Stanley Sinclair, very straight and handsome as he moved up the aisle,
looked down on the bright head near his shoulder and remembered that
other girl who twenty years before had come up the church aisle to meet
him at the altar. He had learned long before to sneer at his own lost
illusions, but singularly enough, never until this moment had it
occurred to him to wonder what her dreams might have been that far-away
June day. To his discomfiture the query brought a pang, and he had
thought himself beyond such weakness. The petrified heart has a
certain advantage over that of flesh, though possibly the ache which
proves it human is a ground for felicitation.

Ten minutes later Thad was wondering what he had been afraid of. Why,
it was nothing. He could hardly believe that a matter so momentous
could be disposed of in so few minutes. And yet it was true, and
Diantha's little hand was in his, to have and to hold till death did
them part.

Diantha's composure throughout the ceremony had suggested that being
married was an every-day matter to a person of her wide experience.
Her poise and self-possession were the occasion of wondering comment
among the many wh