protests had long since been overruled, and certainly no one could have
accused him of posing for a single moment as the reluctant bridegroom.
The happiness which shone from their two faces seemed to brighten the
strangely unecclesiastical looking apartment, in which a cheerful and
exceedingly pleasant looking American divine completed the formalities of
their marriage. It was a queer little company who hurried back to
Elizabeth's room for tea--Elizabeth and Philip themselves, and Martha
Grimes and Beatrice sharing the attentions of Noel Bridges. For an
event of such stupendous importance, it was amazing how perfectly
matter-of-fact the two persons chiefly concerned were. There was only one
moment, just before they started for the theatre, when Elizabeth betrayed
the slightest signs of uneasiness.

"I sent a telegram, Philip," she said, "to Sylvanus Power. I thought I
had better. This is his answer."

Philip read the few typewritten words on the little slip of paper:

"You will hear from me within twenty-four hours."

Philip frowned a little as he handed it back. It was dated from
Washington.

"I think," Elizabeth faltered, "he might have sent his good wishes, at
any rate."

Philip laughed confidently.

"We have nothing to fear," he declared confidently, "from Sylvanus
Power."