"He makes a fool of her," was the bridegroom's unclerical retort. Thus Matilda left the home of her childhood, seated beside her husband in the carriage which was to take them to the junction, and to the back of which Bobby, with a sense of the eternal unfitness of things, had tied one of Matilda's discarded shoes. Not even the thought of the comfortable dowry which went with the gentle Matilda had the power to lighten Mr Jones' lowering countenance during the long drive to the station, and Mr Graynor had behaved with quite surprising generosity in the matter of settlements. The hard ring in Prudence's voice, when she had threatened to make a laughing-stock of him, the expression of disgust on her white face, hit his pride hard. And he dared not offend her further from the wholly unnecessary fear that she would put her threat into execution. He knew that he had paid her marked attention, and that Wortheton was aware of his preference. If she chose to spread tales about him they would not lack credence. His frown deepened when he felt his wife's gloved hand timidly feeling for his; then he roused himself with an effort and responded to the gentle pressure of her fingers. "It's nervous work getting married," he said, with an uneasy laugh. "The fuss and the crowd... every one staring. Phew!" Matilda sympathised with him; she had felt nervous also. "I'm glad it's over--oh! so very glad--and happy, dear." "Blithering ass, isn't he?" was Bobby's cheerful comment, when, turning from watching the vanishing carriage, he found Prudence beside him, looking unusually tall and womanly in her bridesmaid's dress of soft blue, with a hat with cornflowers in it shading her face. "Come along, and drink to their connubial bliss in another bumper of champagne." He filled her glass for her and one for himself. "Cheer up," he cried, and raising his glass, grinned at her over the brim. "There are more Joneses than one in the sea. You needn't sport the willow so openly. It's indecent. Here's to their health, wealth, and happiness! It will be wealth for him, anyway--cute little beast!" Prudence became aware of her father surveying them from the doorway with a tired smile on his bored and worried face. He had slipped away from his guests, who lingered aimlessly on the lawn, and followed them indoors. She persuaded him to take a seat beside her and drink a glass of his own very excellent champagne. "It's jolly good stuff. You did them awfully well, sir," said Bobby enthusiastically approving. "We've given Wortheton something to think about. It'll be Prue's turn next." "There's plenty of time for Prudence," Mr Graynor said--"plenty of time." He found himself looking at her in her unfamiliar dress, surprised, as Bobby had been, by the womanliness he realised for the first time. It disconcerted him. "Weddings are a nuisance; they upset the household," he said. "I wish all these people would go."