cuer had hurried away, insisting that the wound was of no importance,
the bride was helped out of the carriage by the bridegroom and into a
closed motor car which some one hastily offered. In the street where it
had all happened was a stain of blood, Captain March's no doubt; but in
the excitement of changing the bride from one vehicle to the other he
had time to vanish as completely as if he'd wrapped himself in an
invisible cloak.

"Just as well, too, considering who he was, and who he's saved," Tony
finished ungrammatically. "It would have been mighty awkward for all
parties if he'd fallen down in a faint, and Lord Ballyconal out of
gratitude had had to put him up here, where the wedding party's going
on. Or even if he'd been all right, but coralled by the crowd, the bride
would have been called upon to address him as 'my preserver'--what?
Can't you see Vandyke obliged to shower blessings on March for saving
both their lives?"

"And yet, how awful that he should go without a word of thanks--go
wounded and bleeding!" The thought made me choke.

"I guess March is a bit like a sick cat that way," said Tony dryly.
"He'd rather crawl off and get well alone than be bothered by sympathy,
even yours, my child. That's like him. And like him to save the very man
who's spoilt his life. But blest if I can see that being there in church
was like him, no matter what you say! Anyhow, it was a blamed good thing
for every one concerned that he just dropped from heaven like manna in
the nick of time, and then was absorbed back into clouds again, blood
and all."

"Diana's dress must have been baptized in that blood," I muttered, for
my own benefit, but Tony caught me up. "Gee _whiz_! did she get her gown
spattered with it?"

"A drop or two on her silver train. Poetic justice! The blood had been
spilt for her."

"Dashed bad luck to get it on her wedding dress, though, I've heard
superstitious folks say--but what rotten nonsense to talk like this to
you! Of course, there's nothing in it."

"I'm not sure how Di would feel if she knew. But _I_ feel as if a drop
of Eagle March's blood would be like the blood of the prince in a fairy
story I used to love. Just the faintest smear of it brought fortune for
the heroine and all her family," I said. "Di doesn't know. I didn't tell
what I saw. And would you believe this, Tony? My noble brother-in-law
pretends to believe that Eagle got up the whole scene, like a plot in
that melodrama you