"Nothing, goose! We just march up to the clerk and demand the license.

He asks us a lot of questions----"

"Questions! What sort of questions?"

"The names of your father and mother--whether you've been married before and where you live and how old you are----"

"Ask you about your business?" he interrupted, sharply.

"No. They think if you can pay the license fee you can support your wife, I suppose."

"How much is it?"

"I don't know, here. It used to be two dollars in Kentucky."

"That's cheap--must come higher in this burg. I brought along a hundred."

"Nonsense."

"There's a lot of graft in this town. I'll be ready. I've got to get 'em--don't care how high they come."

"There'll be no graft in this, Jim," she protested gayly.

"Well, it'll be the first time I ever got by without it--believe me!"

The ease with which the license was obtained was more than Jim could understand. All the way back from the City Hall he expected to be held up at every corner. He kept looking over his shoulder to see if they were being followed.

Arrived in her room, they discussed their plans for the day of days.

"I'll come round soon in the morning, and we'll spend the whole day at the Beach," he suggested.

She lifted her hands in protest.

"No--no!"

"No?"

"Not on our wedding-day, Jim!"

"Why?"

"It's not good form. The groom should not see the bride that day until they meet at the altar."

"Let's change it!"

"No, sir, the old way's the best. I'll spend the day in saying good-by to the past. You'll call for me at six o'clock. We'll go to Dr.

Craddock's house and be married in time for our wedding dinner."

The lover smiled, and his drooping eyelids fell still lower as he watched her intently.

"I want that dinner here in this little place, Kiddo----"

She blushed and protested.

"I thought we'd go to the Beach and spend the night there."

"Here, girlie, here! I love this little place--it's so like you. Get the old wild-cat who cleans up for you to fix us a dinner here all by ourselves--wouldn't she?"

"She'd do anything for me--yes."

"Then fix it here--I want to be just with you--don't you understand?"

"Yes," she whispered. "But I'd rather spend that first day of our new life in a strange place--and the Beach we both love--hadn't you just as leave go there, Jim?"

"No. The waiters will stare at us, and hear us talk----"

"We can have our meals served in our room.

"This is better," he insisted. "I want to spend one day here alone with you, before we go--just to feel that you're all mine. You see, if I walk in here and own the place, I'll know that better than any other way.

I've just set my heart on it, Kiddo--what's the difference?"

She lifted her lips to his.

"All right, dear. It shall be as you wish. Tomorrow I will be all yours--in life, in death, in eternity. Your happiness will be the one thing for which I shall plan and work."

Ella was very happy in the honor conferred on her. She was given entire charge of the place, and spent the day in feverish preparation for the dinner. She insisted on borrowing a larger table from the little fat woman next door, to hold the extra dishes. She dressed herself in her best. Her raven black hair was pressed smooth and shining down the sides of her pale temples.

The work was completed by three o'clock in the afternoon, and Mary lay in her window lazily watching the crowds scurrying home. The offices closed early on Saturday afternoons.

Ella was puttering about the room, adding little touches here and there in a pretense of still being busy. As a matter of fact, she was watching the girl from her one eye with a wistful tenderness she had not dared as yet to express in words. Twice Mary had turned suddenly and seen her thus. Each time Ella had started as if caught in some act of mischief and asked an irrelevant question to relieve her embarrassment.

Mary could feel her single eye fixed on her now in a deep, brooding look. It made her uncomfortable.

She turned slowly and spoke in gentle tones.

"You've been so sweet to me today, Ella--father and mother and best friend. I'll never forget your kindness. You'd better rest awhile now until we go to Dr. Craddock's. I want you to be there, too----"

"To see the marriage--ja?" she asked softly.

"Yes."

"Oh, no, my dear, no--I stay here and wait for you to come. I keep the lights burning bright. I welcome the bride and groom to their little home--ja."

A quick glance of suspicion shot from Mary's blue eyes. Could it be possible that this forlorn scrubwoman would carry her hostility to her lover to the same point of ungracious refusal to witness the ceremony?

It was nonsense, of course. Ella would feel out of place in the minister's parlor, that was all. She wouldn't insist.

"All right, Ella; you can receive us here with ceremony. You'll be our maid, butler, my father, my mother and my friends!"

There was a moment's silence and still no move on Ella's part to go. The girl felt her single eye again fixed on her in mysterious, wistful gaze. She would send her away if it were possible without hurting her feelings.