hievously she played a few bars of
"Mendelsohn's Wedding March," then sprang from the piano stool and ran
forward with outstretched hands. "You are truly magnificent!" she
breathed impulsively.

Mrs. Harlowe had also risen. Was this radiant young woman in lustrous
white satin, whose changeful face looked out so sweetly from the softly
flowing bridal veil, the same little Grace Harlowe who had not so very
long ago romped her tom-boyish way through childhood? A mist rose to her
eyes, soft with brooding mother love, as she walked forward and took
Grace gently in her arms.

For an instant the three women remained wrapped in a kind of triangular
embrace. Then Mrs. Harlowe released her daughter with a fond, "Walk
across the room, Grace, so that we can get the full effect of your
grandeur."

"It's a darling gown," praised Nora. "I like it ever so much better than
Jessica's, Anne's or mine. I can't blame you for wanting to dress up in
it beforehand. I take back all my croaking. Here's hoping good luck will
roost permanently on your doorstep."

"It ought to," was Grace's fervent response, "with everyone so perfectly
sweet to me and with all the trouble that Mother is taking to give me
pleasure. I feel as though----"

The reverberating peal of the door bell cut Grace's words short. "Don't
answer it until I am out of sight!" she exclaimed, scurrying nimbly
toward the hall. A flash of white on the stairs and she was gone.

"Good morning, Mother mine. Is Grace here?" Tom Gray's impetuous inquiry
betokened strong excitement.

"Good morning, Tom. Come in. Grace has just vanished up the stairs. I'll
let her tell you why she left us in such a hurry." Mrs. Harlowe
smilingly ushered Tom into the living-room. "Nora, you can play hostess.
I will go and tell Grace that Tom is here."

"Thank you." Tom cast a grateful look after Mrs. Harlowe's retreating
back. Following Nora into the living-room he seated himself nervously on
the davenport, his eyes fixed on the doorway.

Nora eyed him in sober speculation. She would have liked to inquire into
the nature of his excitement. Courtesy forbidding her to do so, she
indulged only in commonplaces to which Tom replied almost absently. It
was evident that something remarkable must have happened to thus upset
Tom's equanimity. The sound of Grace's light feet on the stairs was a
matter of relief to her. Excusing herself to the impatient lover, she
left the room, wondering if, after all, there