We all bear a
cross of some sort or other."

"I know it," she continued to sob, "but it is terrible. Harold, I have
never seen such a look on his face as was on it when I came in the room
just now. He looked as if he had lost every hope in life. I didn't think
I'd ever wound him like this. I used to tell him that he and I would be
near together always--if he married or if I married. You see, I know he
counted on it, for he mentioned it frequently. Wasn't that
pitiful--taking Binks up that way? I could almost hear him sob."

"You are too sentimental, dear," Harold answered, trying to disguise his
own emotion, which perhaps Dora's melting mood had elicited. "You
soft-hearted women are always attributing your own feelings to men.
He'll soon get over it. Besides, a man as young as he is ought not to
become a confirmed old bachelor, and this very separation may drive him
into a happiness as normal as yours and mine is going to be."

"I hope so--oh, I hope so!" Dora whimpered, still wiping her eyes. "If
he should remain unhappy here I am afraid I'd not be wholly content away
from him."

"He'll marry, don't worry," Harold said, kissing her again. "He's bound
to do so. He is too fine a man to pass his life in loneliness."

CHAPTER III

The wedding, one bright morning in June, was a most simple one and took
place in the little church that Harold was leaving. The rites were
performed by the Rev. Arthur Kirkwood, the young minister who was
succeeding him. Harold was popular with his congregation, and the church
was fairly well filled with sympathetic friends, none of whom were known
to John. Indeed, he was a dreary alien in a weirdly convivial
assemblage, the smug elation of which irritated him. Mrs. McGwire,
Betty, and Minnie were all so busy shaking hands with people they knew
that John was really ignored. He wanted it so, and yet he keenly felt
the line of demarcation between the element in which he lived and that
which had engulfed Dora and was sweeping her out of his ken forever. He
sat alone in the second row of seats, only a few feet from the pulpit
and a table laden with flowers. A few young people in the choir overhead
were laughing gaily. The faces all over the room were beaming
expectantly, and some of the most impatient persons asked when the bride
and groom would arrive.

"At ten o'clock, sharp," Mrs. McGwire said, aloud, so that all could
hear. "They are coming in a carriage, and expect to be driven s