She felt quite uplifted and a trifle saintly when she rose from
her knees. Alice had actually fallen asleep already and she sighed
quite tenderly as she slipped into the place beside her. Almost
as her lovely little head touched the pillow her own eyes closed.
Then she was asleep herself--and in the faintly moonlit room with
the long soft plait trailing over her shoulder looked even more
like an angel than before.

Whether or not as a result of this touching appeal to the Throne
of Grace, Robert Gareth-Lawless DID. In three months there was
a wedding at the very ancient village church, and the flowerlike
bridesmaids followed a flower of a bride to the altar and later in
the day to the station from where Mr. and Mrs. Robert Gareth-Lawless
went on their way to London. Perhaps Alice and Olive also knelt by
the side of their white beds the night after the wedding, for on
that propitious day two friends of the bridegroom's--one of them
the owner of the yacht--decided to return again to the place where
there were to be found the most nymphlike of pretty creatures a man
had ever by any chance beheld. Such delicate little fair crowned
heads, such delicious little tip-tilted noses and slim white throats,
such ripples of gay chatter and nonsense! When a man has fortune
enough of his own why not take the prettiest thing he sees? So
Alice and Olive were borne away also and poor Mr. and Mrs. Darrel
breathed sighs of relief and there were not only more chances but
causes for bright hopefulness in the once crowded house which now
had rooms to spare.

A certain inattention on the part of the Deity was no doubt
responsible for the fact that "something" did not "happen" to the