“I am only your mother,” Nannie wrote, “so of course it would be preposterous to consider _me_ in regard to the step you are taking. I have suffered a great deal at the hands of your father but I have not lost my pride and self respect yet, and if there was anything more you could do to further alienate me, this was it. You forfeited all right to my affection when you deserted me in my hour of trial in order to pursue your own selfish aims, but this marriage to a man I know nothing about, who may be a nobody from Heaven knows where, is the climax. I think from now on there is not much use in our writing to one another.” Arthur was still engaged in an important case at the capital and could not be present at the wedding. “I am sorry I can not be there,” his letter read. “All the advice I can give you, Lucy, is don’t let your mother intrude on your happiness.” John sent an invitation to his parents, but Dr. Winter, a clergyman, was old and in ill health, and was not able to bear the double strain of the journey and the cold weather. Mrs. Winter, a kindly sentimental lady who would never have thought of leaving her husband, sent tearful regrets, and bemoaned the fact that John and Lucy did not come to the home town and so make it possible for Dr. Winter himself to officiate at the wedding of his only son. In the end only Jim Sprague and Miss Storms witnessed the quiet affair. These two had liked each other since the day of their first meeting. Miss Storms’ interest in Jim had risen from the fact that he was John’s business associate and intimate. Later she gave him her friendship for his own sake and often referred to him affectionately as “our Jim.” There was an unanalysable and very subtle comprehension between the two, though Miss Storms remained quite as kindly aloof from him in her manner as she did with John and Lucy; and Jim, as in all his relations, was ungiven to self-revealing speech. “Well, Jim, Lucy has good taste in friends as well as in husbands,” Miss Storms remarked, smiling at him with quizzical complaisance when the wedding ceremony was over. “I hate all the immodest fol-de-lol of church weddings,” she went on, changing the subject, “but it is a shame that anything as pretty as Lucy in those new togs should be wasted on the desert air. For you and I don’t count.” While she was speaking Lucy came up. Miss Storms took her hand. “Well, dear?” Lucy’s eyes swam with tears. She clasped Miss Storms’ hand in both her own and squeezed it impulsively. Miss Storms kissed her forehead. “I’m jealous, child,” the older woman declared. “So am I,” John laughed. “Neither of you need be.” Lucy smiled unsteadily. “What about you, Jim?” Miss Storms turned to the other guest. “I’ve always been jealous of John,” Jim answered, flushing a little as he spoke. * * * * *