oper way to treat an old friend,
and marriage is too serious a business to be entered into in this way.
Also I am sorry that there is any difference in age between you and
your wife. But that is all in the past, and Mrs. Houghton and I wish
you every happiness. We are looking forward to seeing you next
month." ... ("Exactly," he explained to his Mary, "as I look forward
to going to the dentist's. _You_ tell 'em so.")

As Mrs. Houghton declined to "tell 'em," Eleanor, reading the friendly
words, was able to say, "I don't think he's angry?"

"'Course not!" said Maurice.

Then she opened the other letter.

My dear boy,--I wish you hadn't got married in such a hurry; Edith is
dreadfully disappointed not to have had the chance "to be your
bridesmaid"! You must give us an opportunity soon to know your wife. Of
course you must both come to Green Hill as usual, for your vacation.

"_She_ is furious," said Eleanor. "She thinks it's dreadful to have
eloped." She had turned away from him, and was looking out across the
slow current of the river at the furnaces on the opposite bank--it was
the same river, that, ten days ago, had run sparkling and lisping over
brown depths and sunny shallows past their meadow. Her face lightened
and darkened as the sheeting violet and orange flames from the great
smokestacks roared out against the sky, and fell, and rose again. The
beauty of them caught Maurice's eye, and he really did not notice what
she was saying, until he caught the words: "Mrs. Houghton's like
Auntie--she thinks I've injured you--" Before he could get on his feet
to go and take her in his arms, and deny that preposterous word, she
turned abruptly and came and sat on his knee; then, with a sort of sob,
let herself sink against his breast. "But oh, I did so want to be
happy!--and you made me do it."

He gave her a quick squeeze, and chuckled: "You bet I made you!" he
said; he pushed her gently to her feet, and got up and walked about the
room, his hands in his pockets. "As for Mrs. Houghton, you'll love her.
She never fusses; she just says, 'Consider the stars.' I do hope you'll
like them, Eleanor," he ended, anxiously. He was still in that state of
mind where the lover hopes that his beloved will approve of his friends.
Later on, when he and she love each other more, and so are more nearly
one, he hopes that his friends will approve of his beloved, even as he
used to be anxious that they should approve of him. "I do awfull