"I fancy most men don't anticipate unpleasantness when they marry. But this or that turns up and marriage takes forbearance." He rose. "Now, I've been talking to you as if you were some man I know only casually--instead of the old fellow who's so near and dear to me. I know your good heart, your clean soul----" Wallace again stood. "Oh, don't think I'm an angel," he plead. "I--I----" Once more that grip on the table. He shut his jaws tight. He trembled. "Now, this will do," said Farvel, gently. "Come! We'll go down and see how preparations are going forward. A little work won't be a bad thing for you today." He gave the younger man a playful pull around the end of the table. "You know, I find that all bridegrooms get into a very exaggerated state of self-examination and self-blame just before they marry. You're running true to form." He took Wallace's arm affectionately. As they entered the drawing-room, Mrs. Milo uprose from the sofa, hands thrown wide in a quick warning. "Oh, don't bring him in!" she cried, looking for all the world like an excited figurine. "It's bad luck!" chimed in Mrs. Balcome, realizing the state of affairs without turning. The younger women at the table had also risen, and now Hattie came forward to meet the men, smiling at Farvel, and picking out the flounces of her gown to invite his approval. "Oh, you shouldn't see it till tomorrow," complained Mrs. Milo, appealing to her son. Farvel laughed. "How could it bring anyone bad luck?" he demanded; "--to see such a picture." He halted, one arm about Wallace's shoulder. "Do you like it?" cried Hattie. "Do you really? Oh, I'm glad!" Sue, puzzled, was watching Farvel, who seemed so unwontedly good-spirited, even gay. "Why, Mr. Farvel," she interposed; "I--I--never thought you noticed clothes--not--not anybody's clothes." She looked down at her own dress a little ruefully. It was of serge, dark, neat, but well worn. "Well, I don't as a rule," he laughed. "But this creation wouldn't escape even a blind man." Hands in pockets, and head to one side, he admired the slowly circling satin-and-tulle. Before Sue, on the table, was a morning newspaper; behind her, on the piano, the vestment which Mrs. Milo had thrown down. Quickly covering the garment with the paper, Sue caught up both and made toward the hall door. "Susan dear!" Her mother smiled across Mrs. Balcome's trembling plumes. "Where are you going?" "Er--some--some extra chairs," ventured Sue. "I thought--one or two----" Mrs. Milo crossed the room leisurely. The trio absorbed in the wedding-gown were laughing and chatting together. Mrs. Balcome had rushed heavily to the bay-window in the wake of the poodle, who, from the window-seat, was barking, black nose against the glass, at some venturesome sparrows. Quietly Mrs. Milo took paper and vestment from Sue and tucked them under an arm. "We have plenty of chairs," she said sweetly.