up with clear eyes and said, "I do."

Then the minister's wife, who knew and prized Tryon Dunham's friendship,
said to herself: "It's all right. She loves him."

When the solemn words were spoken that bound them together through life,
and they had thanked their kind friends and were once more out in the
carriage, Tryon said:

"Do you know you haven't told me your real name yet?"

She laughed happily as the carriage started on its way, and answered,
"Why, it is Mary!"

As the carriage rounded the first corner beyond the church, two breathless
individuals hurried up from the other direction. One was short and baggy,
and the sole of one rubber flopped dismally as he struggled to keep up
with the alert strides of the other man, who was slim and angry. They had
been detained by an altercation with the matron of the Y.W.C.A. Building,
and puzzled by the story of the plainly dressed girl who had taken the
room, and the fine lady who had left the building in company with a
gentleman, until it was settled by the elevator boy, who declared the two
women to be one and the same.

A moment later a man in citizen's clothing, who had keen eyes, and who was
riding a motor-cycle, rounded the corner and puffed placidly along near
the two. He appeared to be looking at the numbers on the other side of the
street, but he heard every word that they said as they caught sight of the
disappearing carriage and hurried after it. He had been standing in the
entrance of the Y.W.C.A. Building, an apparently careless observer, while