She wore the same shabby costume in which she had gone each day to the factory, and she had a queer sort of feeling that this was not a bit as she had always imagined a wedding to be. There was no satin frock, no coloured confetti, no wonderful music.

What would Peg think? In her heart Faith was a little afraid of what her friend would think. The clasp of the Beggar Man's hand suddenly relaxed about her own, and she looked up with scared eyes. He was smiling.

"It's all over," he said. "We're married. You've just got to sign your name."

Faith said "Oh!" She blinked her eyes as if she had been asleep.

She had always thought that directly you were married, you felt quite different, but no wonderful metamorphosis had come about so far. She felt just herself, save for a dull sort of nervous headache.

She signed her name on the line pointed out to her and stood aimlessly holding the pen. The man who had married them was filling in a form and the Beggar Man was watching him.

Faith glanced down at her left hand. A brand new gold ring shone on her third finger. She spread her hand out and stared at it.

The registrar folded up his papers and shook hands with the Beggar Man.

Then he shook hands with Faith and wished her luck.

Faith said "Thank you." She thought he was very kind. She liked the way he smiled.

Then the Beggar Man spoke to her.

"Well--are you ready?"

Faith started. She had been dreaming again.

"Quite ready," she said, and followed him outside to where a taxi was waiting. Presently they were driving away together.

The Beggar Man sat beside her. After a moment he began to speak rapidly.

"We're going to have some lunch at my flat. I've got a flat in the West End. I shall give it up now we're married, of course, but I thought it would do for the present--just till I come back and we can look round."

"Isn't it rather early for lunch?" Faith asked, helplessly.

"Is it? Well, we can have a gla.s.s of wine and some sandwiches. I've got such a little time. My train goes at twelve...." He looked down at her with sudden fire in his eyes. "I wish I had not got to go!" he said, vehemently.

"Do you?" said Faith nervously. She shrank a little from him. "You said you would soon be back," she added.

"I know--but on one's wedding day...." He broke off abruptly as the cab stopped. "Here we are."

He held his hand to her, but she avoided it. Fear was upon her once again.

The flat was on the first floor, and the Beggar Man opened the door with his latch-key.

"I bought some flowers and things," he said helplessly. "But it doesn't look very grand. What is it?"

Faith had given a little cry.

"Oh, but it's lovely! lovely!" She had forgotten her shyness. She was running round the room like a delighted child looking at the pictures and ornaments with which it was filled.

He made her drink a gla.s.s of wine and eat some cake, but all the time her eyes were wandering round the room, lost in admiration.

He watched her with a chagrined smile. Surely this was the oddest of wedding days, he thought. A shabby little bride, who had no eyes for her groom, but who sat and stared with rapt attention at such things as chairs and pictures and ornaments.

And the time was flying--flying. He looked impatiently at the clock, and then at the girl who was now his wife. And suddenly it was he who felt shy and tongue-tied.

She met his eyes and flushed, without knowing why, and the Beggar Man rose to his feet and went round the table to where she sat.

"You're my wife now, you know," he said.

"Yes." She drew back a little, her eyes dilating, and he broke out again abruptly: "I wish I'd arranged to take you with me. I was a fool. It could have been managed. Will you come if even now I can take you?"

She gave a little cry of alarm.

"Oh, no, I couldn't. There's mother...."

He turned away with a little harsh laugh.

"I see. Your mother and the twins," he said dryly. "They all come before me, who am only your husband."

She looked at him with puzzled eyes, and, vaguely realizing that in some way he was hurt, she said apologetically:

"But I've known you such a little time."

He echoed her words ironically.

"Yes! You've known me such a little time." Then he laughed, more naturally, and shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, you're my wife anyway. Nothing can alter that. And when I come back...." he paused.

"Yes," Faith echoed, "when you come back...."

"Then," he said again slowly, "I'll teach you to think more of me than you do either of your mother--or the twins!"

There was the faintest note of fun in his voice though his eyes were grave, and Faith smiled, relieved.

"I love mother best in the whole world," she said seriously.

The Beggar Man nodded.

"Some day you will love me best," he said. He took both her hands, drawing her to her feet. "So, it's good-bye for a little. It's all been such a rush; but I've done the best I can. My lawyers know all about our marriage, and if anything should happen to me you'll be all right.

Shawyer will look after you if you want any help. Here's his address."

He put an envelope into her hand. "There's some more money, too--enough to keep you going till I'm back."

Faith took the envelope, which felt extravagantly bulky.

"I haven't spent what you gave me yesterday," she reminded him.

"But you soon will," he answered. "Once you start shopping."