ained
with intense satisfaction. "I knew in advance just how you would feel
about your color."

Before the girls had time to thank their thoughtful hostess she
disappeared and their bridegrooms stood before them. For a moment no
word was spoken. Seaton stared at Dorothy hungrily, almost doubting the
evidence of his senses. For white was white, pink was pink, and her hair
shone in all its natural splendor of burnished bronze.

In their wondrous Osnomian bridal robes the beautiful Earth-maidens
stood before their lovers. Upon their feet were jeweled slippers. Their
lovely bodies were clothed in softly shimmering garments that left their
rounded arms and throats bare--garments infinitely more supple than the
finest silk, thick-woven of metallic threads of such fineness that the
individual wires were visible only under a lens; garments that floated
and clung about their perfect forms in lines of exquisite grace. For
black-haired Margaret, with her ivory skin, the Kondalian princess had
chosen a background of a rare white metal, upon which, in complicated
figures, glistened numberless jewels of pale colors, more brilliant than
diamonds. Dorothy's dress was of a peculiar, dark-green shade,
half-hidden by an intricate design of blazing green gems--the strange,
luminous jewels of this strange world. Both girls wore their long, heavy
hair unbound, after the Kondalian bridal fashion, brushed until it fell
like mist about them and confined at the temples by metallic bands
entirely covered with jewels.

Seaton looked from Dorothy to Margaret and back again; looked down into
her violet eyes, deep with wonder and with love, more beautiful than any
jewel in all her gorgeous costume. Unheeding the presence of the others,
she put her dainty hands upon his mighty shoulders and stood on tiptoe.

"I love you, Dick. Now and always, here or at home or anywhere in the
Universe. We'll never be parted again," she whispered, and her own
beloved violin had no sweeter tones than had her voice.

A few minutes later, her eyes wet and shining, she drew herself away
from him and glanced at Margaret.

"Isn't she the most beautiful thing you ever laid eyes on?"

"No," Seaton answered promptly, "she is not--but poor old Mart thinks
she is!"

* * * * *

Accompanied by the Karfedix and his son, Seaton and Crane went into the
chapel, which, already brilliant, had been decorated anew with even
greater splendor. Glanc