ew that all was well and joy had come.

And they spoke not a word as he folded her in his arms.

* * * * *

A week later they were married very quietly at the Embassy, and went
south to spend their honeymoon, leaving Mr. Carlyon to go back to
England alone. He was tired of wandering, he said, and sighed for the
comforts of the orchard house and his pipe and his Aristotle.

And Aphrodite went with the bridal pair, no doubt content.

The manner of Mrs. Cricklander's dismissal of John Derringham had left
him unhampered by any consideration for her feelings.

And when she read the announcement in the _New York Herald_ the day
after the wedding, she burned with furious rage.

So this was the meaning of everything all along! It had not been Cora
Lutworth or his political preoccupations, or anything but simply the
odious fact that he had been in love with somebody else! This wretched
English girl had taken him from her--a creature of whose existence she
had never even heard!

And the world would know of his marriage before her own news had been
made public! The gall of the whole thing was hardly to be borne!

She felt that, had she been aware that John Derringham's affections were
really given elsewhere, nothing would have induced her to break off the
engagement! Mr. Hanbury-Green was all very well, and was being a most
exceptional lover, only this hateful humiliation and blow to her
self-love mattered more than any mere man!

But of such things the married two recked not at all. Their springtime
of bliss had come.

And, as they sat absolutely alone upon the inner steps of the Temple of
Poseidon at Paestum, looking out upon the sapphire sea and azure sky,
the noble columns in front of them all bathed in golden light, and a
solemn crow perched above as priest to bless them, Halcyone drew the
wrappings from the goddess's head.

"See, John," she said, "Aphrodite is perfectly happy; she is smiling as
never before. She knows that we have found all her message." And she
laid her head against his shoulder as he encircled her with his arm.

"Dear," she went on, with that misty look in her serene eyes as though
they could see into the beyond, "for me, however much beautiful things
exalt me and take me to God, I can never go there alone. It always seems
as if I must put out my hand and take your hand."

"Sweetheart," he answered, holding her close, "and long ago I called
love a draught of t