ave horrified
the aunts beyond forgiveness. The thought of this nerved her to keep a
sober face. She wondered what David thought of it all, but when she looked
at him she wondered no longer, for David stood as one waiting for a
certain ceremony to be over, a ceremony which he knew to be inevitable,
but which was wholly and familiarly uninteresting. He did not even see how
it must strike the girl who was going through it all for him, for David's
thoughts were out on the flood-tide of sorrow, drifting against the rocks
of the might-have-been.

They went in to tea presently, just when the garden was growing loveliest
with a tinge of the setting sun, and Marcia longed to run up and down the
little paths like a child and call to them all to catch her if they could.
The house was dark and stately and gloomy.

"You are coming up to my room for a few minutes after supper," whispered
Aunt Clarinda encouragingly as they passed into the dark hall. The supper
table was alight with a fine old silver candelabra whose many wavering
lights cast a solemn, grotesque shadow on the different faces.

Beside her plate the young bride saw an ostentatious plate of puffy soda
biscuits, and involuntarily her eyes searched the table for the bread
plate.

Aunt Clarinda almost immediately pounced upon the bread plate and passed
it with a smile to Marcia, and as Marcia with an answering smile took a
generous slice she heard the other two aunts exclaim in chorus, "Oh, don't
pass her the bread, Clarinda; take it away sister, quick! She does not
like salt-rising! It is unpleasant to her!"

Then with blazing cheeks the girl protested that she wished to keep the
bread, that they were mistaken, she had not said it was obnoxious to her,
but had merely given them her stepmother's opinion when they asked. They
must excuse her for her seeming rudeness, for she had not intended to hurt
them. She presumed salt-rising bread was very nice; it looked beautiful.
This was a long speech for shy Marcia to make before so many strangers,
but David's wondering, troubled eyes were upon her, questioning what it
all might mean, and she felt she could do anything to save David from more
suffering or annoyance of any kind.

David said little. He seemed to perceive that there had been an unpleasant
prelude to this, and perhaps knew from former experience that the best way
to do was to change the subject. He launched into a detailed account of
their wedding journey. Marci