versation during the
ride. They were divided between the fear of facing a church full of
people and the rapture of being really, truly flower girls at the
wedding of such a wonderful person as their Miss Anne.

It was precisely half-past seven o'clock when two tiny flower maidens,
their childish faces grave with the importance of their office, walked
sedately down the broad church aisle toward the flower-wreathed altar.
Following them came a dazzling vision in gold tissue that caused at
least one's man's heart to beat faster. To Everett Southard Miriam was
indeed the fabled fairy-tale princess. Then came the bride, feeling
strangely humble and diffident in this new part she had essayed to play,
while behind her, single file, in faithful attendance, walked the three
girls who had kept perfect step with her through the eventful years of
her school life.

Mrs. Gray, who had preceded the wedding party to the altar, was waiting
there with the bridegroom and his best man, Tom Gray. There was a buzz
of admiration went the round of the church at the beautiful spectacle
the bridal party presented. Then followed an intense hush as the voice
of the minister took up the solemn words of God's most holy ordinance.

Perhaps no one person present at that impressive ceremony realized as
did Tom Gray what the winning of Anne, for his wife, meant to David. On
that June night, almost two years previous, when Hippy and Reddy had, in
turn, made announcement of their betrothal to Nora and Jessica in the
presence of Mrs. Gray and her Christmas children, David's fate as a
lover had been uncertain. Now David had joined the ranks of happy
benedicts. Tom alone was left.

As the minister's voice rang out deeply, thrillingly, "I pronounce you
man and wife," involuntarily Tom's glance rested on Grace, who was
watching Anne with the rapt eyes of friendship. The words held no
significance for her beyond the fact that two of her dearest friends had
joined their lives. Her changeful face bore no sign of sentiment. As
usual, her interest in love and marriage was purely impersonal.

The reception following the wedding was held at Anne's home, and long
before it was over Anne and David had slipped away to take the night
train for New York City. Anne's honeymoon was to be limited to one week
which they had decided to spend at Old Point Comfort. Anne and Mr.
Southard were to open a newly built New York theatre in Shakespearian
repetoire the following wee