ve, who had long discerned the
signs of the times and had been dreading what he saw must come. Now,
although he felt sharp pangs of grief on seeing his boon and sole
companion snatched from him and about to be offered up upon the altar
matrimonial, yet he rejoiced thereat with the full force of his
unselfish nature.

On this especial night the two men sat beside the fire, and also
beside some of the last oysters that would ever be served up with the
spicy sauce of this same good comradeship. As befitted so memorable an
occasion, the oysters were big fellows and were frying gloriously.

Randolph, who was in great good spirits, leaned over and lifted them
carefully with a fork he held in hand.

"Here we are!" he exclaimed. "Things are done brown now!"

Then the two men looked up at each other and burst out laughing.

There was one important ceremony which Randolph felt must precede the
marriage service, and that was the introduction of his bosom friend to
his _fiancee_.

"I've been puzzling my brains to think how I can bring this about," he
said to Constance one day. "I've already hinted at it to Steve, but he
don't take. I know he wants to meet you, but he's such a retiring
fellow--not really bashful, but like a clam in his shell."

"Don't distress yourself, I beg of you," said Constance with a
mischievous smile. "Mr. Loveland and I have already met and are now
the best of friends."

Randolph stared at her in open-mouthed amazement.

"Where?" he managed to ask.

"Right here in this parlor. I must tell you about it--it was most
beautiful. His card took me by surprise, but I supposed you had
brought him. When I came downstairs there he was, looking altogether
different from your descriptions."

"Well, I like that!" said Randolph. "Do you mean to impeach my
statements?"

"Altogether better," persisted Constance. "Yes, he is taller and has a
most interesting face. He came forward to greet me without a particle
of embarrassment, and there was something so manly and simple, and
withal so high-bred in his every movement, that I was charmed. I know
he must come of a fine family."

"Oh, he does. He had a line of ancestors a mile long aboard the
_Mayflower_. A cousin of his was telling me. He never said a word. He
never talks."

"Ah!" said Constance with an arch smile. "He talked that evening, I
assure you, and to good effect. He had but a few moments to stay, but
he made every moment tell. For one thing, he ass