again as he turned up the hill that was crowned
by the old grey church, whose two cracked bells had just burst into as
cheerful a marriage peal as they could compass.

"Sounds frisky!" he commented to himself, as he trudged up the steep
lane. "My! What an all-fired fuss! Guess these muddy boots aren't exactly
wedding-guesty. But that's their lookout for monopolising every vehicle
in the place. I wonder if I'll have the audacity to show after all. Or
shall I carry this almighty thirst of mine back to the Carfax Arms and
quench it in British ale?"

But this latter idea did not apparently greatly lure him, for he
continued to plod upwards, even while considering it, to the tune of the
clamouring bells.

Arriving finally at the top of the hill and finding there a crowd of
vehicles of all descriptions, he paused to breathe and to search for the
Baronmead motors.

He found them eventually, but there was no one in attendance. The
servants were all herded in the churchyard for a view of the bridal
procession, for which a passage across the road to the Rectory grounds
was being kept.

Capper stationed himself, with another rueful glance as his boots, as
near as he could get to the open lych-gate, and there stood grimly
conspicuous, watching the scene with his alert green eyes, that held the
glint of a tolerant smile, and cracking his thin, yellow fingers one by
one. No one gave him a second glance, or dreamed for an instant that one
of the greatest men in the Western Hemisphere was standing on the edge of
the crowd.

They came at last--bride and bridegroom--flushed and hastening through a
shower of rose petals.

Bertie was laughing all over his brown face. He was holding Dot's hand
very fast, and as they descended the red-carpeted steps into the road he
leaned to her, whispering. She laughed back at him with shining eyes, her
round face radiant beneath the orange blossom. Neither of them glanced to
right or left. Swiftly through the fallen rose leaves they crossed to the
Rectory gateway and were lost to view.

A bevy of bridesmaids ran laughing after them, and then came a pause.

Capper edged a little nearer to the churchyard steps and waited. The
clamour of bells was incessant, wholly drowning the clamour of voices.
Everyone was craning forward to see the crowd of guests. The long
procession had already begun to issue from the church porch. It moved
very slowly, for at the head of it, his hand on his mother's arm, ca