The polling would take place on the last day of March. On the day previous to that of nomination Glazzard and Serena Mumbray were to be married. Naturally, not at Mr. Vialls' church; they made choice of St. Luke's, which was blessed with a mild, intellectual incumbent. Mrs. Mumbray, consistently obstinate on this one point, refused to be present at the ceremony. "There will be no need of me," she said to Serena. "Since you choose to be married as if you were ashamed of it, your father's presence will be quite enough. I have always looked forward to very different things; but when were _my_ wishes and hopes consulted? I am not angry with you; we shall part on perfectly good terms, and I shall wish you every happiness. I hope to hear from you occasionally. But I cannot be a witness of what I so strongly disapprove." William Glazzard--who saw nothing amiss in his brother's choice of a wife, and was greatly relieved by the thought of Serena's property--would readily have gone to the church, but it was decided, in deference to the bride's wish, that Ivy should come in his stead. Ivy had felt herself neglected lately. Since the announcement that her uncle Eustace was to marry Serena, she had seen very little of the friend with whom alone she could enjoy intimate converse. But on the eve of the wedding-day they spent an hour or two together in Serena's room. Both were in a quiet mood, thoughtful rather than talkative. "This day week," said Serena, breaking a long silence, "I shall be somewhere in Sicily--perhaps looking at Mount Etna. The change comes none to soon. I was getting into a thoroughly bad state of mind. Before long you would have refused to associate with me." "I think not, dear." "If not, then I should have done you harm--and that would be a burden on my conscience. I had begun to feel a pleasure in saying and doing things that I believed to be wrong. You never had that feeling?" Ivy looked up with wonder in her gentle, dreamy eyes. "It must be very strange." "I have thought about it, and I believe it comes from ignorance. You know, perhaps what I said and did wasn't really wrong, after all--if one only understood." The listener was puzzled. "But we won't talk about it. Before long I shall understand so many things, and then you shall have the benefit of my experience. I believe I am going to be very happy." It was said as if on a sudden impulse, with a tremulous movement of the body. "I hope and believe so, dear," replied the other, warmly. "And you--I don't like to think of you being so much alone. There's a piece of advice I should like to give you. Try and make friends with Mrs. Quarrier." "Mrs. Quarrier?" "Yes--I have a good reason--I think she would suit you exactly. I had a long talk with her about a fortnight ago, and she seemed to me very nice--nicer than any one I have ever known, except you." "Perhaps I shall have an opportunity"---- "Make one. Go and see her, and ask her to come and see you."