him recover as quickly as other men did. What did women matter?--when
the 'push' might be on, any day.

Cicely Farrell continued to chaff her brother, who took it
placidly--fortified by a big cigar.

'And if she'd been plain, Willy, you'd never have so much as known she
was there! Did you tell her you haunted these parts?'

He shook his head.

* * * * *

Meanwhile the bride and bridegroom had been met on the lodging-house
stairs by the bride's sister, who allowed herself to be kissed by the
bridegroom, and hugged by the bride. Her lack of effusion, however, made
little impression on the newcomers. They were in that state of happiness
which transfigures everything round it; they were delighted with the
smallest things; with the little lodging-house sitting room, its windows
open to the lake and river; with its muslin curtains, very clean and
white, its duster-rose too, just outside the window; with Mrs. Weston,
who in her friendly flurry had greeted the bride as 'Miss Nelly,' and
was bustling to get the tea; even, indeed, with Bridget Cookson's few
casual attentions to them. Mrs. Sarratt thought it 'dear' of Bridget to
have come to meet them, and ordered tea for them, and put those
delicious roses in her room--

'I didn't!' said Bridget, drily. 'That was Milly. It didn't occur to
me.'