but proud of his trust—told the house-defiler that he must go. The young man agreed with cheerful alcoholism. He went at once.
Mrs. Pert was saved in the house-cleaning.
“After all,” said Helen, “what do we know about her? They can say what they like about Fatty. I like her.”
Fems, flowers, potted plants, presents and guests arriving. The long nasal drone of the Presbyterian minister. The packed crowd. The triumphant booming of “The Wedding March.”
A flashlight: Hugh Barton and his bride limply astare—frightened; Gant, Ben, Luke, and Eugene, widely, sheepishly agrin; Eliza, high— sorrowful and sad; Mrs. Selborne and a smile of subtle mystery; the pert flower-girls; Pearl Hines’happy laughter.
When it was over, Eliza and her daughter hung in each other’s arms, weeping.
Eliza repeated over and over, from guest to guest:
"A son is a son till he gets him a wife, But a daughter’s a daughter all the days of her life."
She was comforted.
They escaped at length, wilted, from the thronging press of well— wishing guests. White-faced, scared witless, Mr. and Mrs. Hugh Barton got into a closed car. It was done! They would spend the night at the Battery Hill. Ben had engaged the wedding-suite. To— morrow, a honeymoon to Niagara.
Before they went, the girl kissed Eugene with something of the old affection.
“I’ll see you in the Fall, honey. Come over as soon as you’re settled.”
For Hugh Barton was beginning life with his bride in a new place. He was going to the capital of the State. And it had already been determined, chiefly by Gant, that Eugene was going to the State University.
But Hugh and Helen did not go honeymooning the next morning, as they had planned. During the night, as she lay at Dixieland,
