There were tears in the eyes of both. The elder woman was thinking, "Oh, I hope it will last!" But she only said, "You did not take a wedding journey?" "No. Victor wanted me to go abroad, but I could not bear the thought of going anywhere just at first. I was so eager to get things arranged in our home. We had so many pretty bridal gifts that I was just crazy to see how they would look. I felt that I would rather fix up this home than do anything in the world. Then, too, I hated to go away at this time of the year. Of course we will go later, but May is so beautiful in Washington." "Yes," Mrs. Pennybacker said, softly,--with all her practicality and candid speech there was an unworked vein of sentiment about her, "yes, May is beautiful everywhere--even in Life's calendar." It did seem that in that home there was not one thing lacking; everything was there that heart could desire, taste suggest, or money secure; and the mistress's pride and joy in it all were so spontaneous, so exuberant, her realization of the blessedness of her new life so vivid, that only a croaker or a keen student of human life would have had a thought of the transitory nature of all things. And yet-- By an impulse for which she herself could not account, Mrs. Pennybacker turned again to the girl to whom she had said good-by and took both her hands. "My dear," she said, "my home is in an obscure spot. One can hardly find it on the map. But for you its doors are always open. If you ever need a friend, come to me." * * * * * "How queer!" mused Margaret when she was gone. "I wonder how she came to say that. Well, with all her oddity, I like her." CHAPTER IV THE THORN ROAD Certainly there was nothing on Margaret De Jarnette's horizon at present that was a forecast of falling weather. The skies were blue, the air clear, and over all the life-giving sunshine of love and trust which was starting every plant in her home garden to budding. The program agreed upon in those ante-nuptial days was carried out, and while friends were wondering where the two had gone for their wedding journey, they were quietly settling themselves in their new home and into each other's lives. To Margaret the place on Massachusetts Avenue was the House Beautiful. The home-building instinct was strong within her, and she took a bird's delight in fashioning her nest. If Victor's pleasure in it all did not seem so keen as hers, she did not perceive it. When he came at night she flitted from one room to another, convoying him along to show him how this straw had been changed and this wisp of hay added, and as he looked and listened she did not doubt that it was together they were building their nest.