ddy's friendship with him, which was of a much longer
duration. Also, she took pains to assure her aunt that, as far as
pedigree was concerned, he had the blood of Irish kings in his veins.

CHAPTER IV

Their wedding-day was the sort of day which made Browning, when he
lived in Florence, sing:

"Oh, to be in England
Now that April's there. . . .
* * * *
"And after April, when May follows,
And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows . . ."

Margaret said the words to herself as the day greeted her when she
pulled up her blind in the morning.

London, even in war time, was inviting and charming for such as drove
about the West End in taxis, for they had not yet disappeared from the
highways and byways. The day was clean and fresh and sweet-smelling.
The promise of brilliant sunshine in the midday hours made the
fashionable streets near the Iretons' rooms very busy and gay.
Khaki-clad figures were everywhere; some were accompanied by
daintily-clad girls, proud of their soldier lovers; others were walking
with portly old gentlemen, their generous grandfathers or godfathers,
most probably; while many of them had given themselves over to their
mothers for the morning. Nor were they, as they would have been in the
days of peace, embarrassed by their affectionate grasp of their arms
and the unconcealed adoration and love.

* * * * * *

Things had happened with such bewildering rapidity that Margaret drove
through the streets to the church in which they were to be married in a
sort of open-eyed dream. She saw with extraordinary vividness all that
was going on around her, even to the faces of the boys and girls who
passed them in taxis; but she was incapable of concentrated thought.
The hurry and excitement in which she had lived for the last two days
left her breathless and vague.

She was driving with Michael Ireton, who was amazed at her outward
calm. He little knew that the bride whom he was to give away was
physically and nervously almost exhausted. The sudden end to the
strain which she had endured so long had produced a dreamlike phase of
almost semi-consciousness.

Margaret knew that Michael was ahead of her, in another taxi with
Hadassah. She also knew that they were driving to the church with the
outside pulpit which stands a little way back from the road in
Piccadilly. She had always felt a special attraction for the quiet
co