rey; and as these figures
approached he for a few moments forgot his agony in a long, rapt
contemplation of the bridesmaid's face.

Then he could bear it no longer, and he was about to rush out and go in
search of Stratton when he felt that it was too late, for already the
admiral was at the door with the bride, and Edie and Miss Jerrold were
at his side.

He gave Edie one quick glance full of agony, and then in a hurried
whisper to the admiral's sister:

"Miss Jerrold, for goodness' sake ask Sir Mark to step into the vestry.
Stratton has not come."

Too late--too late! The organ was still giving forth its introductory
strain; the two clergymen moved out of the vestry, and took their
places; Sir Mark and Myra were close up, and the clerk came forward and
signed to Guest to stand in the bridegroom's place.

Before he could think, the admiral's lips were close to his ear, and the
sharp whisper thrilled him as if it had been a roar.

"Where's Stratton?"

"I--he was to meet me--I--I'll go and see."

The words were stammered forth in a whisper, and no one better than he
felt how tame and paltry they sounded, while as, hat in hand, he hurried
down the aisle, running the gauntlet of a couple of hundred eyes, it
seemed as if they stung him, that the looks were more mocking than
wondering, while, raging with annoyance, the few yards felt lengthened
out into a mile.

Through the baize doors, and under the portico, but no sign of the
brougham with the pair of greys that was to bring the bridegroom.

What to do; jump into a hansom and bid the man gallop to Benchers' Inn?

It would take best part of an hour, and Stratton must be there directly.
He would wait and see, even if everyone in the crowd was staring at him
wonderingly, while the cold sweat stood out in big drops upon his face.

"What is the meaning of this?" said a stern voice at his elbow, and
Guest turned to face the admiral, whose florid countenance was mottled
with white.

A few words of explanation followed and then:

"I'll take a hansom and gallop off to his chambers."

"No," said Sir Mark in a low, hoarse voice. "An insult to my child! It
is atrocious!"

The old man turned and strode back, while, hardly knowing what he did,
Guest followed him between the two rows of curious faces to where Myra
stood, perfectly firm and self-contained, while Edie was trembling
visibly, and clinging to Miss Jerrold's arm.

As Sir Mark reached his daughter there