happen if they should trip up on
their specifications."

There was a simple wedding breakfast served--by whom nobody could tell. It
was eaten out in the orchard--a pleasant place, for the neglected grass
had been close cut, and an old-fashioned garden at one side perfumed the
air with late September flowers. The trim little country maids who brought
the plates came from a willow-bordered path which led presumably to the
next house, some distance down the road. There were several innovations in
the various dishes, delicious to taste. Altogether it was a little feast
which everybody enjoyed with unusual zest. And the life of the party was
the bridegroom.

"I never saw a fellow able to scintillate like that at his own wedding,"
remarked the son of the Bishop to the best man's sister. "Usually they are
so completely dashed by their own temerity in getting into such an
irretrievable situation that they sit with their ears drooping and their
eyes bleared. Do you suppose it's getting married in tennis clothes that's
done it?"

"Tennis clothes!" cried the best man's sister with a merry laugh. "If you
realised how much handsomer he looks than you men in your frock-coats you
would not make fun."

"Make fun!" repeated the Bishop's son solemnly. "I joke only to keep my
head above water. I never in my life was so completely submerged in the
desire to get married instantly and live in a picturesque band-box.
Nothing can keep me from it longer than it takes to find the girl and the
band-box. If--if--" his voice dropped to a whisper, and a hint of redness
crept into his face which belied his jesting words, "you knew of the
girl--I--er--say--should you mind living in a band-box?"

The best man's sister was the sort of girl who can discern when even an
inveterate joker is daring to be somewhat more than half in earnest, and
she flushed so prettily that the son of the Bishop caught her hand
boyishly under the little table. He had hitherto been considered a
hopeless old bachelor, so it may readily be seen that, now the contagion
had caught him, his was quite a serious case.

X.--ON A THRESHOLD

When it was all over Judith Dearborn went upstairs with Juliet to help her
dress for her going away. The maid-of-honour looked about the
blue-and-white room with thoughtful eyes.

"This is certainly the dearest room I ever saw," she said. "Oh, Juliet, do
you think you really will be happy here?"

"What do you think about it, dear?