d, wistfully, recalling her own.

"Talking of noses! Bea, sometimes it's terrible to realize that my
ambitions have become true. To dream and work without ceasing and
without much caring what you do until your dream merges into
reality--it makes even a six-footer as hysterical as a schoolgirl."

"You're intense," she said, soberly. "Jill says you'd make a wonderful
actor."

Steve looked annoyed. "Those scatterbrained time wasters--don't listen
to them. Let's find our real selves--you and I; be worth while. Now
that I've made my fortune I want to spend it in a right fashion--I
want to be interested in things, not just dollars and cents. Help me,
dearest. You know about such things; you've never had the ugliness of
poverty bruise the very soul of you."

"You mean having a good time--and parties----" she began.

"No; books, music; studying human conditions. I want to study the slow
healing of industrial wounds and determine the best treatment for
them. I have made the real me go 'way, 'way off somewheres for a long
time until I won my pile of gold that helped me capture the girl I
loved. Now it is done the real me wants to come back and stay."

"Oh, I see," she said, vaguely. "Of course there are tiny things to
brush up on--greeting people, and you mustn't be so in earnest at
dinner parties and contradict and thump your fist. It isn't good
form."

"When whippersnappers like Gaylord Vondeplosshe----"

"Sh-h-h! Gay's a dear. He is accepted every place."

"We're nearly there, tough luck! One kiss, please; no one can see. Say
you care, then everything else must true up."

The wedding took place at high noon in church, with the bishop and two
curates to officiate. There was a vested choir singing "The Voice That
Breathed O'er Eden"; a thousand dollars' worth of flowers; six
bridesmaids in pastel frocks and picture hats, shepherdess' staffs,
and baskets of lilies of the valley; a matron of honour, flower girls,
ushers; a best man, a papa, an aunty in black satin with a large
section of an ostrich farm for her hat--and a bridegroom.

After the wedding came the breakfast at the Constantine house.
Though certain guests murmured that it was a trifle too ultra like
the house itself, which was half a medieval castle and half the
makings of a village fire department, it was generally considered a
success. Nothing was left undone. The bride left the church amid the
ringing of chimes; her health was drunk, and she slipped up