very soon after that Mr. Spillikins was saying, with quite a quaver
in his voice,

"By Jove! yes, I'm awfully lucky; I never thought for a moment that
she'd have me, you know--a woman like her, with so much attention and
everything. I can't imagine what she sees in me."

Which was just as well.

And then Mr. Spillikins checked himself, for he noticed--this was on
the verandah in the morning--that Norah had a hat and jacket on and
that the motor was rolling towards the door.

"I say," he said, "are you going away?"

"Yes, didn't you know?" Norah said. "I thought you heard them speaking
of it at dinner last night. I have to go home; father's alone, you
know."

"Oh, I'm awfully sorry," said Mr. Spillikins; "we shan't have any more
tennis."

"Goodbye," said Norah, and as she said it and put out her hand there
were tears brimming up into her eyes. But Mr. Spillikins, being short
of sight, didn't see them.

"Goodbye," he said.

Then as the motor carried her away he stood for a moment in a sort of
reverie. Perhaps certain things that might have been rose unformed and
inarticulate before his mind. And then, a voice called from the
drawing-room within, in a measured and assured tone,

"Peter, darling, where are you?"

"Coming," cried Mr. Spillikins, and he came.

* * * * *

On the second day of the engagement Mrs. Everleigh showed to Peter a
little photograph in a brooch.

"This is Gib, my second little boy," she said.

Mr. Spillikins started to say, "I didn't know--" and then checked
himself and said, "By Gad! what a fine-looking little chap, eh? I'm
awfully fond of boys."

"Dear little fellow, isn't he?" said Mrs. Everleigh. "He's really
rather taller than that now, because this picture was taken a little
while ago."

And the next day she said, "This is Willie, my third boy," and on the
day after that she said, "This is Sib, my youngest boy; I'm sure you'll
love him."

"I'm sure I shall," said Mr. Spillikins. He loved him already for being
the youngest.

* * * * *

And so in the fulness of time--nor was it so very full either, in fact,
only about five weeks--Peter Spillikins and Mrs. Everleigh were married
in St. Asaph's Church on Plutoria Avenue. And the wedding was one of
the most beautiful and sumptuous of the weddings of the September
season. There were flowers, and bridesmaids in long veils, and tall
ushers in frock-coats, and awnings at the church door