scene by electric flashes from the head of the
walking-stick he was flourishing. A varied string of fiery dragons,
winged fish, and heathen hobgoblins danced along beside them, for Kitty
was putting candles in a row of Japanese lanterns when they arrived at
The Beeches, and nearly everybody in the party accepted her invitation
to take one. Mary chose a sea-serpent with a grinning face, and Elise a
pretty oval one with birds and cherry blossoms on each side. Lloyd did
not take any. Her hands were already filled with a huge bouquet of red
roses.

"Sylvia asked me to carry these," she explained to Miles Bradford, "and
to weah a white dress and this hat with the red roses on it. Because I
was maid of honah at Eugenia's wedding she seems to think I can reflect
some sawt of glory on hers. She said she wanted all her young ladies to
weah white."

"Who are her young ladies, and why?" he asked.

"Allison, Kitty, Betty, and I. You see, Sylvia's grandfathah was the
MacIntyre's coachman befoah the wah, and her mothah is our old Aunt
Cindy. She considahs that she belongs to us and we belong to her."

Farther down the line they could hear Katie Mallard's cheerful giggle as
she tripped over a beech root, then Bernice Howe's laugh as they all
went slipping and sliding down a steep place in the path which led to
the hollow crossed by the dry creek bed.

"Sing!" called Miss Allison, who was chaperoning the party, and picking
her way behind the others with Mary and Elise each clinging to an arm.
"There's such a pretty echo down in this hollow. Listen!" The tune that
she started was one of the popular songs of the summer. It was caught up
by every one in the procession except Miles Bradford, and he kept silent
in order to enjoy this novel pilgrimage to the fullest. The dark woods
rang with the sweet chorus, and the long line of fantastic lanterns sent
weird shadows bobbing up in their wake.

The bare, unpainted little church had just been lighted when they
arrived, and a strong smell of coal-oil and smoking wicks greeted them.

"It's too bad we are so early," said Miss Allison. "Sylvia would have
preferred us to come in with grand effect at the last moment, but I'm
too tired to wait for the bridal party. Let's put our lanterns in the
vestibule and go in and find seats."

A pompous mulatto man in white cotton gloves and with a cluster of
tuberoses in his buttonhole ushered the party down the aisle to the
seats of honor reserved for