ands into his pockets sulkily, and turned his back.

Mrs. Balcome came puffing in. "Say, you know dear Babette is getting
very tired," she announced pettishly. "And I wish----"

As if in answer to her complaining, there came a burst of song. The
library door swung wide. And forward, with serene and uplifted faces,
came the choir, singing the wedding-march. Each cotta swayed in time.

Balcome and Hattie followed the procession, the former scolding.
"Well, are we rehearsing at last, or what are we doing?" he demanded as
he passed Sue.

Mrs. Balcome shook with laughter. "Fancy anybody being such a dolt as
to rehearse without a minister!" she scoffed.

The choir filed out, and their song came floating back from the Close.
Miss Crosby entered and went to Sue. "Miss Milo, don't I sing before
the ceremony?" she asked.

Sue roused herself with a shake of the head and a helpless laugh.
"Well, you see how much _I_ know about weddings," she answered. "Now,
I'm going to introduce the bridegroom." Wallace was beside Hattie,
leaning over her with anxious devotion, and whispering. Sue pulled at
his sleeve. "Wallace," she said, "you haven't met Miss Crosby." And
to Miss Crosby as he turned, a little annoyed at being interrupted,
"This is the lucky man."

Miss Crosby's expression was one of polite interest. Wallace, trying
to smile, bowed. Then their eyes met----

"A-a-a-aw!" It was a strange, strangling cry--like the terrified cry of
some dumb thing, suddenly cornered. Miss Crosby's mouth opened wide,
her eyes bulged. Upon her dead white face in startling contrast stood
out the three spots of rouge.

"Laura!" gasped Wallace.

For a moment they stood thus, facing each other. Then with a rush the
girl went, her arms thrown out as if to fend off any who might seek to
detain her. She pulled the door to the vestibule against herself as if
she were half-blinded, stumbled around it, slammed it shut behind her,
and was gone.

CHAPTER IV

With Clare Crosby's sudden departure, the group in the Rectory
drawing-room stood in complete silence for a moment, astonished and
staring. Wallace, with his hands to his face, was like a man
half-stunned.

Outside in the Close, the choir, having come to a halt, was rendering
the Wedding March with great gusto--proof positive that the
choirmaster, at least, made an audience for the twelve. Above the
chorus of young voices pealed that one most perfect--the bird-sweet