"The bride-look!"

It was a word that went deep into the mourning heart of the
playwright. "The bride-look!" That was it: the bride's
happiness!

"She had more than that," said Potter peevishly, but, if the
others had noticed it his voice shook. "She could act! And I
don't know how the devil to get along without that hypocrite.
Just like her to marry the first regular man that asked her!"

Then young Stewart Canby had a vision of a room in a boarding-
house far over in Brooklyn, and of two poor, brave young people
there, and of a loss more actual than his own--a vision of a
hard-working, careworn, stalwart Packer trying to comfort a
weeping little bride who had lost her chance--the one chance--
"that might never have come!"

Something leaped into generous life within him.

"I think I was almost going to ask her to marry me, to-morrow,"
he said, turning to Talbot Potter. "But I'm glad Packer's the
man. For years he's been a kind of nurse for you, Mr. Potter.
And that's what she needs--a nurse--because she's a genius, too.
And it will all be wasted if she doesn't get her chance!"

"Are you asking me to take her back?" Potter cried fiercely. "Do
you think I'll break one of my iron--"

"We couldn't all have married her!" said the playwright with a