he same when down in the hotel-yard they got into the small and
decrepit victoria which was destined to take them and their luggage to
Brighton. It was the same, but more so. They were both so pleased with
themselves that their joy was bubbling continually out in manifestations
that could only be described as infantile. The mere drive through the
village, with the pony whisking his tail round corners, and the driver
steadying the perilous hat-box with his left hand, was so funny that
somehow they could not help laughing.

Then they had left the village and were climbing the exposed highroad,
with the wavy blue-green downs on the right, and the immense glittering
flat floor of the Channel on the left. And the mere sensation of being
alive almost overwhelmed them.

And further on they passed a house that stood by itself away from the
road towards the cliffs. It had a sloping garden and a small greenhouse.
The gate leading to the road was ajar, but the blinds of all the windows
were drawn, and there was no sign of life anywhere.

"That's the house," said Edward Coe, briefly.

"I might have known it," Olive Two replied. "Olive One is certainly the
worst getter-up that I ever had anything to do with, and I believe
Pierre Emile isn't much better."

"Well," said Edward, "it's no absolute proof of sluggardliness not to be
up and about at six forty-five of a morning, you know."

"I was forgetting how early it was!" said Olive Two, and yawned. The
yawn escaped her before she was aware of it. She pulled herself together
and kissed her hands mockingly, quizzically, to the house. "Good-bye,
house! Good-bye, house!"

They were saved now. They could not be caught now on their surreptitious
honeymoon. And their spirits went even higher.

"I thought you said Mimi would be waiting for us?" Olive Two remarked.

Edward Coe shrugged his shoulders. "Probably overslept herself! Or she
may have got tired of waiting. I told her six o'clock."

On the whole Olive Two was relieved that Mimi was invisible.

"It wouldn't really matter if she _did_ split on us, would it?" said the
bride.

"Not a bit," the bridegroom agreed. Now that they had safely left the
house behind them, they were both very valiant. It was as if they were
both saying: "Who cares?" The bridegroom's mood was entirely different
from his sombre apprehensiveness of the previous evening. And the early
sunshine on the dew-drops was magnificent.

But a couple of hundred y