Shawe returned at this moment, and then the vicar made his appearance in his surplice. It was an exceedingly quiet wedding. Lady Sanby gave the bride away, and the verger was one of the witnesses to the ceremony. A few idlers had, as usual, collected in the body of the church, and commented on the good looks of the bride, but the female portion of the idlers admired the handsome bridegroom. When the knot was safely tied Ralph kissed his wife, and this example was followed by Lady Sanby. "And now, dear, you can call me grannie," said the old dame, which was a wonderful mark of favour to be shown, as Audrey well knew. But Lady Sanby's kindness did not stop here. She took the young couple to a fashionable restaurant and gave them a wedding-breakfast, and finally drove them in her motor to the railway station, whence they departed for a quiet seaside town on the south coast. When the train started, and the married pair were alone, Audrey threw herself into Ralph's arms. "Oh, darling, I am happy at last," she said. "Let us forget the past." But although Ralph kissed her and agreed, he knew that Perry Toat was yet working at the Pink Shop mystery. CHAPTER XXII THE PHOTOGRAPH Weed-on-the-Sands is a quiet little watering-place on the south coast in the county of Sussex. Round the original fishing-village a flourishing town of villas and shops has grown, and as it is reached only by a branch line from the main trunk railway it is rarely overcrowded. In fact, a select number of invalids and holiday-makers come to Weed-on-the-Sands every year for cure and enjoyment. The general public find the place too quiet, as the tiny town has no bandstand, or esplanade, or entertainments of any kind whatsoever. There are smooth sands, with seaweed-covered rocks--hence the odd name of the resort--a rude jetty, which stretches out some little distance into deep water, and one or two or three crooked streets, which are united with the wider and straighter thoroughfares of the new town. A prettier or quieter or more agreeable place could scarcely be found in England, and certainly not on the south coast. To this miniature Eden Mr. and Mrs. Shawe came to pass their honeymoon, and took rooms at an old-fashioned inn, called the Three Fishers. The landlady was a buxom widow belonging to the Dickens era, and having a sympathy with lovers, or, rather, with newly-married couples, she made them extremely comfortable. Audrey and her husband greatly enjoyed the peace after the exciting events in which they had so lately taken part. They wandered on the sands and drove about the surrounding country, and found, more than ever, that they were all in all to one another. After a week of this dwelling in Paradise the doings of the last few months became more dreamlike and endurable. To poor Audrey this atmosphere of peace and sympathy and love was like a forecast of heaven.