``Mercy, what a letter I've written! But I,
had to talk to some one; besides, I'd promised I
to let you know how matters stood as soon as I
could. As you see, though, my trip East has been
practically useless. I saw the wedding, to be
sure, but I didn't prevent it, or even postpone
it--though I meant to do one or the other, else
I should never have made that tiresome journey
half across the continent at two hours' notice.

``However, we shall see what we shall see. As
for me, I'm dead tired. Good night.
``Affectionately yours,
``KATE.''


Quite naturally, Mrs. Kate Hartwell was not
the only one who was thinking that evening of
the wedding. In the home of Bertram's brother
Cyril, Cyril himself was at the piano, but where
his thoughts were was plain to be seen--or
rather, heard; for from under his fingers there
came the Lohengrin wedding march until all the
room seemed filled with the scent of orange
blossoms, the mistiness of floating veils, and the
echoing peals of far-away organs heralding the
``Fair Bride and Groom.''

Over by the table in the glowing circle of the
shaded lamp, sat Marie, Cyril's wife, a dainty