Standing with her hands on her Bridegroom's shoulders the Bride glanced back from the stormy window to Kennilworth's face with a somewhat provocative smile. "Well--it _was_ in the mind of God, wasn't it?" she said. "What was!" demanded young Kennilworth. "The rain," shrugged the Bride. "Oh--damn the rain!" cried young Kennilworth. "I wish people wouldn't speak to me! It drives me crazy I tell you to have everybody babbling so! Can't you see I want to work? Can't anybody see--anything?" Equally furious all of a sudden at everybody, he swung around and darted up the stairs. "Don't anybody call me to lunch," he ordered. "For Heaven's sake don't let anyone be idiot enough to call me to lunch." Even Ann Woltor's jaw dropped a bit at the amazing rudeness and peevishness of it. It was then that the beaming grin on Rollins's face flickered out for a single instant of incredulity and reproach. "Why--Miss Woltor!" he choked, "you didn't have your tooth fixed--after all!" With a great crackle of paper every man's face seemed buried suddenly in the shipping news. "No!" I heard my Husband's voice affirm with extravagant precision, "not the slightest mention anywhere of any maritime disaster." "Not the slightest!" agreed George Keets. "Not the slightest!" echoed Paul Brenswick with what seemed to me like quite unnecessary monotony. It was the Bride who showed the only real tact. Slipping her hand casually into Ann Woltor's hand she started for the Library. "Let's go see if we can't find something awfully exciting to read to-day," she suggested. Once across the library threshold her voice lowered slightly. "Really, Miss Woltor," she confided, "there are times when I think that Mr. Rollins is sort of crazy." "So many people are," acquiesced Ann Woltor without emotion. Caroming off to my miniature conservatory on the pretext of watering my hyacinths I met my Husband bent evidently on the same errand. My Husband's sudden interest in potted plants was bewitching. Even the hyacinths were amused I think. Yet even to prolong the novelty of the situation there was certainly no time to be lost about Rollins. "Truly Jack," I besought him, "this Rollins man has got to be suppressed." "Oh, not to-day--surely?" pleaded my Husband. "Not on the one engagement day of his life? Poor Rollins--when he's having such a thrill?" "Well--not to-day perhaps," I conceded with some reluctance. "But to-morrow surely! We never have been used you know to starting off the day with Rollins! And two breakfasts in succession? Well, really, it's almost more than the human heart can stand. Far be it from me," I argued, "to condone poor Allan John's lapse from sobriety or advocate any plan whatsoever for the ensnaring of the very young or the unwary; but all other means failing," I argued, "I should consider it a very great mercy to the survivors if Rollins should wake to-morrow with a slight headache. No real cerebral symptoms you understand--nothing really acute. Just----!"