rning to tell over in her mind, like beads on a rosary,
the excellent qualities of her dear love. Could there be another such in
the wide world? Pamela was happy with Lewis Elliot, and Lewis was kind
and good and in every way delightful, but compared with Richard
Plantagenet--In this pedestrian world her Biddy had something of the old
cavalier grace. Also, he had more than a streak of Ariel. Would he be
content always to be settled at home? He thought so now, but--Anyway,
she wouldn't try to bind him down, to keep him to domesticity, making an
eagle into a barndoor fowl; she would go with him where she could go,
and where she would be a burden she would send him alone and keep a high
heart, till she could welcome him home.

But it was high time that she had her bath and dressed. It would be a
morning of dressing, for about 10.30 she would have to dress again for
her wedding. The obvious course was to breakfast in bed, but Jean had
rejected the idea as "stuffy." To waste the last morning of April in bed
with crumbs of toast and a tray was unthinkable, and by 9.30 Jean was at
the station giving Mhor an hour with his beloved locomotors.

"You will like to come to Mintern Abbas, won't you, Mhor?" she said.

Mhor considered.

"I would have liked it better," he confessed, "if there had been a
railway line quite near. It was silly of whoever built it to put it so
far away."

"When Mintern Abbas was built railways hadn't been invented."

"I'm glad I wasn't invented before railways," said Mhor. "I would have
been very dull."

"You'll have a pony at Mintern Abbas. Won't that be nice?"

"Yes. Oh! there's the signal down at last. That'll be the express to
London. I can hear the roar of it already."

Pamela's idea of a wedding garment for Jean was a soft white cloth coat
and skirt, and a close-fitting hat with Mercury wings. Everything was
simple, but everything was exquisitely fresh and dainty.

Pamela dressed her, Mrs. Macdonald looking on, and Mawson fluttering
about, admiring but incompetent.

"'Something old and something new,
Something borrowed and something blue,'"

Mrs. Macdonald quoted. "Have you got them all, Jean?"

"I think so. I've got a lace handkerchief that was my mother's--that's
old. And blue ribbon in my under-things. And I've borrowed Pamela's
prayer-book, for I haven't one of my own. And all the rest of me's new."

"And the sun is shining," said Pamela, "so you're fortified against
ill-luc