room occupied by the youngest
Miss Watchett. George Cannon came up quietly behind her. She pretended
not to hear him. He put his hands lightly on her wet arms. Smiling with
condescending indulgence, half to herself, she still pretended to ignore
him, and continued her toilet.

The return from the honeymoon, which she had feared, had accomplished
itself quite simply and easily. She had feared the return, because only
upon the return was the marriage to be formally acknowledged and
published. It had been obviously impossible to announce, during the
strenuous summer season, the engagement of the landlord to a young woman
who lived under the same roof with him. The consequences of such an
indiscretion would have been in various ways embarrassing. Hence not a
word was said. Nor were definite plans for the wedding made until George
remarked one evening that he would like to be married at Chichester,
Chichester being the name of his new private hotel. Which exhibition of
sentimentality had both startled and touched Hilda. Chichester, however,
had to be renounced, owing to the difficulty of residence. The subject
having been thus fairly broached, George had pursued it, and one day
somewhat casually stated that he had taken a room in Lewes and meant to
sleep there every night for the term imposed by the law. Less than three
weeks later, Hilda had inobtrusively departed from No. 59, the official
account being that she was to take a holiday with friends after the
fatigues of August and early September. She left the train at Lewes, and
there, in the presence of strangers, was married to George Cannon, who
had quitted Brighton two days earlier and was supposed to be in London
on business. Even Sarah Gailey, though her health had improved, did not
assist at the wedding. Sarah, sole depositary of the secret, had to
remain in charge of No. 59.

A strange wedding! Not a single wedding present, except those
interchanged by the principals! Nor had any of the problems raised by
the marriage been solved, or attacked. The future of Sarah Gailey, for
example! Was Sarah to go on living with them? It was inconceivable, and
yet the converse was also inconceivable. Sarah had said nothing, and
nothing had been said to Sarah. Matters were to settle themselves. It
had not even been decided which room Mr. and Mrs. Cannon should inhabit
as man and wife. It was almost certain that, in the dead period between
the popular summer season and the fashionab