"You're just in time, Miss Kingdon," he said uneasily, "to
make your mother happy by your presence at her wedding."

"I'm just in time, Mr. Moriway, to see that my mother's not made
unhappy by your presence."

"Evelyn!" Mrs. Kingdon remonstrated.

"Come, Sarah." Moriway offered his arm.

The bride shook her head.

"To-morrow," she said feebly.

Moriway breathed a swear.

Miss Kingdon laughed.

"I've come to take care of you, you silly little mother, dear
. . . . It won't be to-morrow, Mr. Moriway."

"No--not to-morrow--next week," sighed Mrs. Kingdon.

"In fact, mother's changed her mind, Mr. Moriway. She thinks it
ungenerous to accept such a sacrifice from a man who might be her
son--don't you, mother?"

"Well, perhaps, George--" She looked up from her daughter's
shoulder--she was crying all over that precious red coat of