and is far more peaceful than when David Lockwin asked her to marry him
far on in the long ago, for on that night she cried.

"I suppose the number of guests should be small," he notes.

"Only our nearest friends. A Thursday, dear, at 6 o'clock."

The neighborhood is agog. The servants outdo each other in gossip.
There are household arrangements which are to turn a gloomy abode into
a merry dwelling-place.

The decorators must work night and day. The mansion is as brilliant
with gas as on the evening Esther Wandrell put her hands in David
Lockwin's and listened rapturously to his praise of the beautiful child.

Is that a shadow skulking about this corner! Probably it is some night
policeman employed by the widow.

Certainly it is a faithful watch the figure keeps on the great house
where the decorators toil.

"I'm glad I'm not rich," says one pedestrian to his companion.

"They're awfully afraid of burglary," says the companion.




CHAPTER III