ept it.

"It is no matter, mamma," Dexie said through her tears, for the interview
had been most distressing. "Papa gave me the money he received from his
published sketches, so I will do very well."

Mrs. Sherwood did not care to ask what the sum amounted to; but having a
poor opinion of her husband's literary efforts, she considered that it
could not be much.

"I hope you will not regret this hasty step, Dexie," as Dexie came to her
side to wish her good-bye. "You cannot expect me to think kindly of you
when you leave me in such a way as this."

"Well, mamma, you know I am obliged to seek the protection of a husband
that has been denied me as a daughter; I hope you will not miss me very
much. Will you not kiss me good-bye?"

Her mother turned her cheek, but Dexie waited in vain for the kind parting
word she longed for.

"I am sorry to leave you, mamma. Think kindly of me sometimes. Guy takes me
because he thinks I need his love and care."

"Go to him, then! You have made your choice!"

With this dismissal, Dexie hurried to the hall where Guy was awaiting her,
wiping her eyes as she went.

"Well, for my part, I'm glad to see the last of you," said Gussie,
following slowly after her sister. "You have always stood in my way, and
your Puritanical notions have spoiled many pleasures for me; so whatever
tears _I_ shed will be tears of joy."

"Thank you, Gussie; that speech is all that is needed to remove every
vestige of regret I may have felt at leaving home," was Dexie's reply, an
unusual light in her dark eyes. "Come, Guy, I am quite ready," and without
turning her head she passed out the door of her own home to the untried
future that she was to share with Guy Traverse.

"My heart aches for you, my darling," and Guy pressed the hand that rested
on his arm. "Let Gussie shed her tears of joy while she can, for, if I am
not mistaken, they will flow for another cause before the week is out."

CHAPTER XLIV.

A kinder welcome could not be imagined than Dexie received from Guy's
sister when they arrived in Boston, for Mrs. Graham had heard so much of
Guy's "little girl" that she took Dexie to her heart at once.

The mental disquietude and physical weariness that she had passed through
kept Dexie confined to her room for two days, but on the morning of her
third day in Boston she stepped out the church-door a willing, happy bride.

"Really, I can hardly believe that I have been turned into a married wom