ut bows on the swans, an' I'll not come to any
second-hand weddin'."

But he did come, and held with Flanders the satin ribbons they had
promised to hold for Sheila. And the wedding became one of the greenest
of all the memories that had gone down on the San books.

As the sun clipped the far-away hills the boy was wheeled down the paths
to where the gold and white of early roses were massed in summer splendor.
Then came the girl with Sheila at her side; the girl had begged too hard
to be refused. But Sheila's face was as white as it had been the day they
operated on Doctor Dempsy, and only Peter guessed what it cost her to
stand with the bride. To Peter's care had been intrusted the little
mother, and he let her weep continually on his shoulder in between the
laughs he kept bringing to her lips.

And it all ended merrily. Sheila saw to that. But perhaps the thing that
gave her the keenest pleasure was wheedling out of Mr. Crotchets his
bungalow that stood on the slopes beyond the golf-links for a honeymoon.

"They'll have all the quiet they want and the care he still needs," she
told Peter when they were alone. "And nobody but the nurse in charge knows
about it--yet." Then seeing the great longing in Peter's eyes, she drew
him away from the crowd. "Listen, man of mine! I have the feeling that
when we are married there will be no wedding, just you and I and the
preacher. And in my heart I like it better that way."

"So do I," agreed Peter.

"I'm leaving--train to-night," Sheila hurried on. "No use putting it off;
better sail as soon as the passport's ready. There's just one thing more I
want to say before I leave you."

Then Peter chuckled for the first time that day. "You can say it, of
course, but if you think you're going to leave me behind, you're mistaken.
I wired the chief the day you told me. They need another correspondent
over there. When it comes to passports there is some advantage in not
being a husband, after all. Well--are you glad?"

When Hennessy came upon them, a few minutes later, they looked so
supremely happy and oblivious of the rest of the world that he was forced
to stop. "Sure, ye might be the bride an' groom, afther all, by the looks
of ye. What's come over ye all of a sudden?" And when Peter told him, and
they both put their hands in Hennessy's in final parting, he shirred his
lips and whistled forth evidence of a satisfied emotion to which he added
a word of warning to Peter:

"I'm n