ordinary comforts of her former life. She had not been warm enough in the
coarse black coat.

The other box contained a beautiful hat of fur to match the coat. It was
simply trimmed with one long, beautiful black plume, and in shape and
general appearance was like the hat he had borrowed for her use in the
fall. She smiled happily as she set it upon her head, and then laughed
outright as she remembered her shabby silk gloves. Never mind. She could
take them off when she reached the church.

She packed the little black dress into the suit-case, folded the felt hat
on the top with a tender pat, and, putting on her gloves, hurried down to
the one who waited for her.

The matron had gone upstairs to the linen closet and left the girl with
the discontented upper lip in charge in the office. The latter watched the
elegant lady in the rich furs come down the hall from the elevator, and
wondered who she was and why she had been upstairs. Probably to visit
some poor protégée, she thought. The girl caught the love-light in the
eyes of Tryon Dunham as he rose to meet his bride, and she recognized him
as the same man who had been in close converse with the cheaply dressed
girl in the parlor an hour before, and sneered as she wondered what the
fine lady in furs would think if she knew about the other girl. Then they
went out to the carriage, past the baggy, rubbered man, who shrank back
suddenly behind a stone column and watched them.

As Dunham shut the door, he looked back just in time to see a slight man,
with dark eyes and hair, hurry up and touch the baggy man on the shoulder.
The latter pointed toward their carriage.