“You are to arrange your work on somebody else’s shoulders and come out with me for the afternoon, Alma. Matron is not quite sure if it is wisdom or foolishness----” “We will prove it to be wisdom. I’ll be ready in ten minutes. Will you wait?”--as she sailed away. “I’ll wait ten minutes,” grinned Con. “When do you expect to go?” asked the Matron. “As soon as the men go. And the sooner they get across the better. We ought to be in Belgium now. The Germans are hammering away at Liége, and I doubt if the Belgians singlehanded can do much. They never struck one as particularly martial.” “Well, I hope you’ll come through it safely. It would be a terrible thing for you both if ...” and she nodded gravely. “No good forecasting troubles. The worst ones don’t come as a rule, and it’s no good thinking about them. We’re under the Red Cross, and they fight straight and respect it.” “Shells and bullets are no respecters of persons, and in war one never knows what may happen.” “Anyway it will be a mighty satisfaction to know that we belong to one another.” “We must hope you are doing the right thing. It’s a very natural thing, I acknowledge.” “And the natural thing is the right thing as a rule, now isn’t it?” “Sometimes,”--and Alma came in, her dark eyes dancing and her face still flushed with the thought of the great adventure on which they were bound. The Matron shook hands with them both very warmly, and wished them ‘God-speed!’ very heartily, and then they were gliding away in a taxi to Doctors’ Commons, and from there to the nearest Registrar’s Office, and they came out of it a few minutes later man and wife. “We’ll have a little wedding-feast at the Savoy under the guise of lunch,” said Con gaily. “I had breakfast at eight. And then we’ll taxi all the way home. I can’t possibly permit you to mingle with ordinary people in ordinary trains yet. Besides, I want to kiss you all the way down, and there’s nothing like a closed taxi----” “Dear, dear! What experience you seem to have had!” “Not a quarter enough, as you’ll see, Mrs Dare. Here we are! Now we’ll get a table in the balcony and watch old Father Thames rolling down to the sea.” “The tide is coming in,” said Alma, as she drew off her gloves. “Good omen! The rising tide!--and here’s the sun to add his blessing,”--as the watery gray clouds up above parted and let a gleam of sunshine through.