across the way at Williamstown, fixing up a modest house. He also had a
devoted friend, in the person of a Customs officer, whose experienced
wife took charge of the operations. Lily was to see nothing until all
was ready for her. It was to be a "pleasant surprise".

The last touches had been given--tea put in the caddy, meat and butter
in the safe, flowers in the vases. Mrs Hardacre, in her best gown,
spread a festive supper-table, and Bill, her spouse, stood by with a
Government launch to take the proud young husband to his wife, and to
bring them back together.

Lily awaited him, trembling, tearful, wild with the joy of going home.
Her step-mother had come to Sandridge to see her off, and had brought
her a present of a macintosh, on the merits of which she dilated with
fervour as she twirled it round and round.

"Buttons right down to the feet," she urged persuasively, "and cape
hanging below the waist"--the second Mrs Harrison was a big woman.
"You might go through a deluge in it. And so stylish, my dear! You can
wear it when you go out in threatening weather of an afternoon, and be
quite smart."

"Well, it's pretty threatening now," said Guthrie uneasily. "I don't
know that it wouldn't be wiser--"

"Oh, no, no!" Lily implored. "No trains tonight! No way but this,
Guthrie. I can't get wet--in this nice waterproof. I don't care how it
blows--the more the better--with you with me."

"But baby?"