It was over at last! The words had been spoken which made her Hubert Varrick's wedded wife, through weal or through woe, till death did them part. Then followed the sumptuous wedding-breakfast. While the merriment was at its height, Varrick touched her lightly on the arm. "It wants but an hour and twenty minutes until train time. Would it not be best to slip away now and arrange your traveling toilet?" "Yes," said Gerelda. No one noticed their exit, and at last they were alone together, away from the throng of guests; but, much to the bride's disappointment, her newly made husband did not seem to realize this fact, and Gerelda's face flushed with disappointment. He escorted her as far as the door of her _boudoir_, and there he left her, saying that he would return in half an hour, hoping that would be sufficient time to exchange her bridal robes for her traveling-dress. She smiled and nodded, declaring that he should find her ready before that time. Hubert walked slowly on until he found himself at the door of the conservatory. "It wouldn't be a bad idea to get a cigar and return here for a quiet smoke," he thought. He immediately suited the action to the thought. Was it fate that led him there? He had scarcely seated himself in one of the rustic arm-chairs ere he heard the sound of approaching voices. He felt slightly annoyed that the retreat he had chosen was to be invaded at that particular moment. He drew back among the large-leaved plants, which would effectually screen him from the intruders, and hoped that their stay would be short. "I tell you it will be impossible for you to see her," said a voice, which he recognized as belonging to Gerelda's maid. "But I must," retorted another voice which sounded strangely familiar. "Give her the note I just gave you, and I will wager you something handsome that she will see me. My good girl, let this plead for me with you!" A jingle of silver accompanied the words, and Varrick could not help but smile at the magical effect the little bribe had. "Of course, I'll take your note to her, sir," said the girl; "but that isn't promising she'll see you." Somehow the idea formed itself in Varrick's mind that it was Mrs. Northrup for whom the man asked. Had he thought for one moment that it was Gerelda whom the man had asked for, he would have stepped forth and inquired of him what he wanted. In a very few moments he heard the _frou-frou_ of a woman's garments and the patter of hurrying feet. "Gerelda has come instead of her mother to see what this person wants," he thought; adding impatiently: "This will never do; we shall be late for the train, sure. I will have to take the man off her hands." At that instant, Gerelda, panting with excitement sprung across the threshold of the conservatory. From his leafy seat Varrick could hear and see all that took place, while no one could see him.