he hastily descended
one flight and then waited ten minutes, with all of a new husband's
still untamed impatience, for his wife to be ready.

At last, when he was within four minutes of being able to feel
justified in shouting out that they would miss their train, Helena
appeared: full of amused excitement, still thinking it all the greatest
of great fun and very sweet in a quite married-looking velvet gown,
with the most colossal muff that matched a very cloud of furs, and over
all of it a plume that waved above her never steady hat until it looked
like a pillar of thin smoke.

Hubert, all impatience, quite forgot to say that she looked charming.
It was really lucky she had not been taught yet to expect it.

"Come along," he said instead. "We're getting a bit late. I rather
dread this part!"

"Oh, I don't know," she laughed. She had loved all of it.

They went down to the lower flight, where all the guests were
pitilessly ranged on each side of the broad Georgian stairs.

Of course there was the funny man, who will happen even in the
best-born families. Perhaps he has some use at such a time as this.
Ruth and Mrs. Hallam, both united in feeling tearful yet mutually
hostile, found amusement in his constant parrot-cry of "Here they are!"
or when he felt specially inspired, even "Here they aren't!" It was a
relief to have any excuse at all to laugh.

And there at length they were, smiling gaily, shaking countless hands,
quailing under genial pats, avoiding silver horseshoes and gold
slippers. (Rice and confetti were vetoed by the mean brother.) And so
into the car, with Ruth and Mrs. Hallam smiling crookedly through
tears, until the funny man, dutifully fumbling with string and an old
slipper, was lost in a vast cloud of steam or something white let out
by the fresh-started engine, which sent the couple off amid a bellow of
good-omened laughter, and every one surged in with relief to say
good-bye and to agree they should have gone away much earlier. It had
been hideously long, but weddings always were.

Helena, as a corner blotted out the house, came back into the car with
a gay laugh.

"Got your camera, my dear?" asked Hubert. It is odd how soon a man
acquires the air of a proprietor.

"I _wish_ I'd thought of taking them as we went off," said Helena.
"They looked so funny."

He made no reply. He seemed to be thinking. She wondered what about.
Then, as he sat silent, she began to be afraid to int