She realised beforehand that even on the honeymoon a young wife could not afford to be contented with any lapse from these high standards which it was her duty to impose upon the man whom she had honoured with her hand; one must begin as one meant to go on. In this Spartan mood Edith Beckett steeled herself to marry Rodney Greene, and it is fair to say that never once did she fall into the pitiful weakness of condoning in silence any breach on Rodney's part, of manners, morals, or good behaviour. II Their wedding was a successful one. Edith's undeniable good looks showed to advantage in their conventional setting of Chilly white satin, stiffly wired orange blossom and floating veils. It was generally understood that the young couple intended to spend their honeymoon on the Continent, staying the first night at Dover, but a proper atmosphere of mystification hid their actual destination. After the last guest had departed, Mrs. Beckett, subsiding into the nearest chair, indulged in a few tears of mixed emotion and fatigue. "Wasn't the dear child looking lovely?" she said. "I thought the way she looked up at Rodney when he put on the ring was just beautiful. I told her to be sure and look up just then so that everyone could see her profile, and even in the midst of all the excitement she didn't forget." Mrs. Beckett sighed contentedly. "Very nice indeed," answered Mr. Beckett. "In fact it all went very well. Plenty of champagne, wasn't there? I ordered an extra six dozen to be on the safe side." "Well, well," said Mrs. Beckett inconsequently. "Our little Edith's gone now. They must be in the train. I just hope Rodney will be good enough to her and take care of her." A glimpse into the carriage of the train, rushing through the flat fields of Kent, would have reassured Mrs. Beckett. Edith was leaning back restfully, very calm, very pretty, while Rodney leaned forward from the seat opposite and kissed her hand devotedly in the intervals of conversation. "I really think it was a very pretty wedding." She spoke with a satisfied intonation. "Everyone admired my dress and thought my spray of flowers much more original than a round bouquet." "You were wonderful, my darling. When I put the ring on and you looked up at me my heart missed a beat." "Dear Rodney," said Edith affectionately, but suddenly her face stiffened. Rodney had taken out his cigarette case and was actually lighting a cigarette. "Surely you aren't going to smoke now, Rodney," she rebuked him. "Would you rather I didn't?" "Yes, much rather. I don't think this is the time for smoking." Rodney threw away the cigarette. "Oh, well," he said good-naturedly, "I expect I can manage to wait till we get to Dover." "You're surely not dependent on a trivial thing like a cigarette are you?" asked Edith, in a slightly shocked voice.