new home. It was the Story Girl's idea, but I don't think Aunt
Janet would have let us go if Uncle Blair had not pleaded for us.
He asked to be taken along, too, and we agreed, if he would stand
out of sight when the newly married pair came home.

"You see, father, the Awkward Man won't mind us, because we're
only children and he knows us well," explained the Story Girl,
"but if he sees you, a stranger, it might confuse him and we might
spoil the homecoming, and that would be such a pity."

So we went to Golden Milestone, laden with all the flowery spoil
we could plunder from both gardens. It was a clear amber-tinted
September evening and far away, over Markdale Harbour, a great
round red moon was rising as we waited. Uncle Blair was hidden
behind the wind-blown tassels of the pines at the gate, but he and
the Story Girl kept waving their hands at each other and calling
out gay, mirthful jests.

"Do you really feel acquainted with your father?" whispered Sara
Ray wonderingly. "It's long since you saw him."

"If I hadn't seen him for a hundred years it wouldn't make any
difference that way," laughed the Story Girl.

"S-s-h-s-s-h--they're coming," whispered Felicity excitedly.

And then they came--Beautiful Alice blushing and lovely, in the
prettiest of pretty blue dresses, and the Awkward Man, so
fervently happy that he quite forgot to be awkward. He lifted her
out of the buggy gallantly and led her forward to us, smiling. We