n the parish church instead of in St.
Paul's is not exactly secrecy or a wild desire to hide something on my
part. I have always hated big fashionable weddings."

She slipped out of the dress and laid it down on the bed. Mrs. Grant
viewed her with discontented eyes.

"I cannot pretend to understand you," she grumbled, "and I don't know
why you talk of St. Paul's. I never suggested such a place; Harry and I
were married at St. Mary's, Kensington."

Dick, when consulted on the matter, proved even less amenable. "I
dislike the whole affair," he answered gruffly; "please don't ask me
where it should take place."

He ran up to London himself the week before the wedding. A vague and
rather incoherent wish to meet Joan again had kept him restless ever
since her abrupt departure. He did not attempt to define his thoughts in
any way. The girl had interested him, and startled him out of the even
tenor of his beliefs. He hated to think of her turned adrift and left,
as the possibility was she had been left, to fend for herself. He had
not seen the elder Miss Rutherford since his visit, but rumour in the
village ran that Miss Joan had got into disgrace of sorts and been sent
away. The servants from the Manor spoke with bated breath of the change
which had come over the household; of how Miss Joan's rooms had been
locked and her pictures taken down. The world is horribly hard to women
when they leave the beaten paths of respectability; he could not bear to
think of what she might be suffering, of where it might lead her.

He walked about somewhat aimlessly for his few days in town, but the
chance of meeting anyone in this way is very remote, and of course he
did not succeed. He could not, however, shake away the depression which
the thought of her brought him.

Mabel came to sit in his smoking-room the night before her wedding, Mrs.
Grant having gone early to bed.

"Did you see anyone up in town?" she asked.

Dick shook his head, puffing at his pipe. "Not a soul I knew," he
commented, "except Mathews about my job. Wish I hadn't gone; London is a
depressing place."

"You rather hoped to meet someone, didn't you?" asked Mabel.

Dick glanced up at her and away again quickly. "What makes you ask
that?" he said.

Mabel let the curtain fall back into place; she had been peering out
into the street, and turned to face him. "You have shut me outside
things, Dick," she spoke slowly, "this last month, ever since my
engagement; b