r so
for a portrait?'

'Ah, when, indeed? But we may as well enjoy our day-dreams, like
Alnaschar, without smashing our basket of crockery.'

And now Mary, who had managed to exist without the picture, was to have
the original. He was to be all her own--her master, her lord, her love,
after to-morrow--unto eternity, in life, and in the grave, and in the
dim hereafter beyond the grave, they two were to be one. In heaven there
was to be no marrying or giving in marriage, Mary was told; but her own
heart cried aloud to her that the happily wedded must remain linked in
heaven. God would not part the blessed souls of true lovers.

A short sleep, broken by happy dreams, and it was morning, Mary's
wedding morning, fairest of summer days, July in all her beauty. Mary
went to her grandmother's room, and waited upon her at breakfast.

Lady Maulevrier was in excellent spirits.

'Everything is arranged, Mary, I have had a telegram from Hammond, who
has got the licence, and will come at half-past one. At three the Vicar
will come to marry you, his daughters, Katie and Laura, acting as your
bridesmaids.'

'Bridesmaids!' exclaimed Mary. 'I forgot all about bridesmaids. Am I
really to have any?'

'You will have two girls of your own age to bear you company, at any
rate. I have asked dear old Horton to be present; and he, Fraeulein, and
Maulevrier will complete the party. It will not be a brilliant wedding,
Mary, or a costly ceremonial, except for the licence.'

'And poor Jack will have to pay for that,' said Mary, with a long face.

'Poor Jack refused to let me pay for it,' answered Lady Maulevrier. 'He
is vastly independent, and I fear somewhat reckless.'

'I like him for his independence; but he mustn't be reckless,' said
Mary, severely.

He was to be the master in all things! and yet she was to exercise a
restraining influence, she was to guard him against his own weaknesses,
his too generous impulses. Her voice was to be the voice of prudence.
This is how Mary understood the marriage tie.

Under ordinary conditions Mary would have been in the avenue, lying in
wait for her lover, eager to get the very first glimpse of him when he
arrived, to see him before he had brushed the dust of the journey from
his raiment. But to-day she hung back. She stayed in her grandmother's
room and sat beside the sofa, shy, and even a little downcast. This
lover who was so soon to be transformed into a husband was a formidable
personage.