his son's
wife," he said.

A little later Don gave Sally the envelope to open. It contained a
check for five hundred dollars.

"Good Heavens!" exclaimed Don, "we're rolling in wealth. I guess when
we get back to town we'll have to buy a car."

"When we get back to town we'll open a bank account," corrected
Sally.

CHAPTER XXXIII

A BULLY WORLD

As Sally came down the stairs at a quarter of three in her white silk
wedding gown the wonder was how, after a morning of such honest hard
work as she had put in, it was possible for her to look so fresh. Many
a town bride, after spending the entire morning resting in preparation
for such an event, has at the last moment failed to turn up with such
apple-red cheeks or brilliant eyes. There was a gently serious
expression about her mouth, to be sure, but that was not due to
fatigue. In spite of her light-heartedness during the last few days
she had been all the while keenly conscious that she was accepting a
great responsibility. She was about to marry not only a lover, but a
man whose future was to be in her keeping. Among other things he was
to be a future partner in the firm of Carter, Rand & Seagraves, and
that meant several years of very hard work ahead of them. Then there
were the secret responsibilities--the unborn responsibilities. These
were not very definite, to be sure, but she felt them, timidly,
gravely, in queer little tuggings at her heart.

When finally she stood in front of the clergyman with Don by her side,
she felt, not that she was in a bower of wild flowers, but before an
altar. The ritual for her had a deeply religious significance. She
made her responses in a steady voice heard by every one in the room.
When she made the promise "to love, cherish, and obey," she spoke it
as though she meant it. It did not disturb her in the slightest to
utter the word "obey," because she knew well that whatever commands
came to her from Don would be of her own inspiring. To her this
promise was no more than an agreement to obey her own best impulses.

The service seemed almost too brief for so solemn an undertaking, but
when it was over, she reached for Don's hand and took it in a hearty
grip that was more of a pledge than the ring itself. It sent a tingle
to his heart and made his lips come together--the effect, a hundred
times magnified, of the coach's slap upon the back that used to
thrill him just before he trotted on the field before a big game. He