after her return tramping up and down a public
park for hour after hour like this, looking for any
man. _Won't_ you come home?''

But Billy had not even heard. With a glad little
cry she had darted to the side of the humped-up
figure of a man alone on a park bench just ahead
of them.

``Uncle William! Oh, Uncle William, how
could you?'' she cried, dropping herself on to
one end of the seat and catching the man's arm
in both her hands.

``Yes, how could you?'' demanded Bertram,
with just a touch of irritation, dropping himself
on to the other end of the seat, and catching
the man's other arm in his one usable
hand.

The bent shoulders and bowed head straightened
up with a jerk.

``Well, well, bless my soul! If it isn't our little
bride,'' cried Uncle William, fondly. ``And the
happy bridegroom, too. When did you get
home?''

``We haven't got home,'' retorted Bertram,
promptly, before his wife could speak. ``Oh, we