The excitement among the guests had now spread to the floors above. Too, there was a noticeable dearth of serving people. In the parlor on this second floor into which Ryder glanced curiously on his way to his own rooms, was a crowd of women with a sprinkling of husbands, discussing the situation in varying degrees of anxiety. The corridors and parlor were ablaze with electric lights, and Ryder saw the great picture, covering half the further end-wall of the room, about which Mr. Cudger was making such a row at the clerk's desk. An especially arranged string of lights over the picture cast the proper glow upon it. It really was the work of a master of color, but that its owner should consider it in danger of suffering the fate of some of the great paintings that have been stolen, rather amused John Ryder. While he stood for a moment looking at the picture he realized that a sudden hush had fallen upon the several groups in the parlor, and he saw that the majority of the guests there assembled were staring at him. Whether their interest was aroused because he was a bridegroom or because he had cornered the lighting and heating supplies of the village, the man of business did not know--nor did he care. He shrugged his shoulders and passed on. A bridegroom! Well, this did not seem a very fortunate beginning for one's honeymoon. Another man might have easily slipped from under the duties that had settled on John Ryder's shoulders. But it was his way, when he saw things going wrong, to step in and right them. He had given his mind to this business of trying to bring some order out of the chaotic condition of affairs in the hotel with as much zest as he ever gave to business matters. Now, as he approached the apartment in which he and Ruth had expected to be so happy in each other's society for the next few weeks, he tried to throw off all the anxieties that had recently accumulated in his mind. This was his bridal night. He had fallen in love with the most beautiful and charming woman he had ever met, and had married her offhand. Were it not for this troublesome matter of the hotel closing, he would be the happiest man alive. Indeed, he was the happiest man alive in any case. Had he not just been married to the loveliest and sweetest girl in the world? Was not _his wife_ (John Ryder almost strutted) waiting for him in their rooms at this very moment? Then a feeling of humility, unusual humility in this successful business man who was accustomed to getting what he wanted, overcame him. What was he to have won this jewel of a woman in so short a time? Seven days, and she had consented to become his wife! Men sometimes strove and worked for the love of a woman for months--for years! But no--that could not be real love! When two people loved as he and Ruth loved, there was no waiting in uncertainty. They knew it--they must know it--at once.