t your father to me, and he had wished us happiness." Dick
placed his hands gently on his wife's shoulders and regarded her with a
touch of indignation in his gaze.

"Mary," he said reproachfully, "you are not going to hold me to that
promise?"

The answer was given with a decisiveness that admitted of no question,
and there was a hardness in her face that emphasized the words.

"I am going to hold you to that promise, Dick."

For a few seconds, the young man stared at her with troubled eyes. Then
he moved impatiently, and dropped his hands from her shoulders. But his
usual cheery smile came again, and he shrugged resignedly.

"All right, Mrs. Gilder," he said, gaily. The sound of the name provoked
him to new pleasure. "Sounds fine, doesn't it?" he demanded, with an
uxorious air.

"Yes," Mary said, but there was no enthusiasm in her tone.

The husband went on speaking with no apparent heed of his wife's
indifference.

"You pack up what things you need, girlie," he directed. "Just a
few--because they sell clothes in Paris. And they are some class,
believe me! And meantime, I'll run down to Dad's office, and have him
back here in half an hour. You will be all ready, won't you?"

Mary answered quickly, with a little catching of her breath, but still
coldly.

"Yes, yes, I'll be ready. Go and bring your father."

"You bet I will," Dick cried heartily. He would have taken her in his
arms again, but she evaded the caress. "What's the matter?" he demanded,
plainly at a loss to understand this repulse.

"Nothing!" was the ambiguous answer.

"Just one!" Dick pleaded.

"No," the bride replied, and there was determination in the
monosyllable.

It was evident that Dick perceived the futility of argument.

"For a married woman you certainly are shy," he replied, with a sly
glance toward Aggie, who beamed back sympathy. "You'll excuse me, won't
you, Miss Lynch,... Good-by, Mrs. Gilder." He made a formal bow to his
wife. As he hurried to the door, he expressed again his admiration for
the name. "Mrs. Gilder! Doesn't that sound immense?" And with that he
was gone.

There was silence in the drawing-room until the two women heard the
closing of the outer door of the apartment. Then, at last, Aggie
relieved her pent-up emotions in a huge sigh that was near a groan.

"Oh Gawd!" she gasped. "The poor simp!"

CHAPTER XIII. THE ADVENT OF GRIGGS.

Later on, Garson, learning from the maid that Dick Gilder had left,