'd never marry any one else. And father said, 'There, there, don't
cry. We'll see what mother says.'"

"Your mother was a brick," said Hilary, poking the fire.

"And that night they never told me anything about it, and I didn't even
change my frock, but came down, looking horrible, just as I was, in an
old black rag--no, Hilary, don't say it was pretty!"

Hilary, unconvinced, shook his head.

"And when I walked into the drawing room there was nobody there but
just you; and we neither of us said anything for ever so long. And then
father and mother came in and--do you remember after dinner, Hilary?"

"I remember," said Hilary.

There was a long pause. Mrs. Hilary was looking into the fire; little
Miss Phyllis's eyes were fixed, in rapt gaze, on the ceiling; Hilary was
looking at his wife--I, thinking it safest, was regarding my own boots.

At last Miss Phyllis broke the silence.

"How perfectly lovely!" she said.

"Yes," said Mrs. Hilary, reflectively. "And we were married three months
afterwards."

"Tenth of June," said Hilary reflectively.

"And we had the most charming little rooms in the world! Do you remember
those first rooms, dear? So tiny!"

"Not bad little rooms," said Hilary.

"How awfully lovely," cried little Miss Phyllis.

I felt that it was time to interfere.

"And is that all?" I asked.

"All? How do you mean?" said Mrs. Hilary, with a slight start.

"Well, I mean, did nothing else happen? Weren't there any complications?
Weren't there any more troubles, or any more opposition, or any
misunderstandings, or anything?"

"No," said Mrs. Hilary.

"You never quarreled, or broke it off?"

"No."

"Nobody came between you?"

"No. It all went just perfectly. Why, of course it did."

"Hilary's people made themselves nasty, perhaps?" I suggested, with a
ray of hope.

"They fell in love with her on the spot," said Hilary.

Then I rose and stood with my back to the fire.

"I do not know," I observed, "what Miss Phyllis thinks about it--"

"I think it was just perfect, Mr. Carter."

"But for my part, I can only say that I never heard of such a dull
affair in all my life."

"Dull!" gasped Miss Phyllis.

"Dull!" murmured Mrs. Hilary.

"Dull!" chuckled Hilary.

"It was," said I severely, "without a spark of interest from beginning
to end. Such things happen by thousands. It's commonplaceness itself. I
had some hopes when you father assumed a firm attitude, but--"

"Mother was suc