``Nothing, only she overheard part of Bertram's
nonsensical talk with Kate a little while ago, and
she's ready to cast the last ravelling of white satin
and conventionality behind her, and go with you
to the justice of the peace.''

``Sensible girl!''

``Yes, but she can't, you know, with fifty
guests coming to the wedding, and twice as many
more to the reception. Honestly, Cyril, she's
broken-hearted. You must do something. She's
--coming!'' And the receiver clicked sharply
into place.

Five minutes later Marie was called to the
telephone. Dejectedly, wistful-eyed, she went.
Just what were the words that hummed across the
wire into the pink little ear of the bride-to-be,
Billy never knew; but a Marie that was anything
but wistful-eyed and dejected left the telephone
a little later, and was heard very soon in the room
above trilling merry snatches of a little song.
Contentedly, then, Billy went back to her roses.

It was a pretty wedding, a very pretty wedding.
Every one said that. The pink and green of the
decorations, the soft lights (Kate had had her
way about darkening the rooms), the pretty frocks
and smiling faces of the guests all helped. Then