how
things shape themselves. When I turned the lad over to you, I knew he'd
find plenty of adventure, and perhaps some risk, but the last thing I
ever dreamed of him finding was a bride--and such a bride--ha-ha! And
the daughter of an old brother officer of mine, at that. Why, I had
almost forgotten Brandon's very existence."

"Well, when I saw how things were tending, it gave me some anxious
times, I allow," said Greenoak, "recognising that fathers are fathers,
and naturally like to have a say in such matters. All the same, I tell
you candidly, Sir Anson, that from the first I thought Dick would be
extremely lucky if ever he managed to bring that off."

"And you thought right. Lucky dog indeed. Why, the girl is a
treasure."

It was even as the old gentleman had said. He had held an Army
commission in his younger days, and he and Hazel's father had been
subalterns together. But the latter, tired of waiting for his step, had
exchanged into a regiment ordered to the Cape on active service, and at
the close of hostilities had sold out, married, and settled down as a
colonist, and a very fairly successful one he became. All this had come
out in the course of Dick's engagement, and Sir Anson, delighted at the
prospect of once more foregathering with his former comrade-in-arms, had
concluded to take a run out and look into matters himself. His welcome
had been all that he could have desired, and Hazel won the old man's
heart--even as she had won that of his son--on sight. Thus everything
ran on oiled wheels, culminating in a big wedding at the nearest
district town, at which nothing would satisfy Dick but that Harley
Greenoak should officiate as his best man. And the latter, ruefully
comic over the incongruity of the _role_ in his case, was obliged to
comply.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hallo, dad!" now sang out Dick, as they all met at the rendezvous.
"Has Greenoak been `wiping your eye,' or is it t'other way on?"

"No, certainly not the other way on, Dick," was the answer. "Greenoak's
a record. But--hasn't Hazel come yet?"

"N-no. Wait though--oh--yes. There she is. I hear wheels."

A minute later and a neat dog-cart drove up, halting at a gate on the
further side of the field. Hazel had alighted before Dick could get
there, and as the pair returned together, laughing and talking, the two
older men watched them, each with his own particular form of