horses’ heads.

Not above a minute before the carriage was drawn up, but it was like an age to those who listened to the whispering and giggling going on.

For the words “No bridegroom!” had reached the little crowd outside as soon as the retiring wedding party; and as Guest heard a remark or two made, there was a singing in his ears, and an insane desire to rush at some staring idiot and thrash him within an inch of his life.

But he glanced at Myra as he pressed Edie’s hand against his side, and saw that the bride’s head was erect and that she stepped proudly into the carriage. Then the admiral took his seat by her side and said firmly:

“Home!”

“To the hotel, sir?” said the footman.

“Home!” roared Sir Mark.

The footman sprang up to his seat, the carriage was driven off, and with the crowd increasing Miss Jerrold’s took its place.

“Quick, Mr Guest,” whispered the admiral’s sister. “She is fainting.”

He had felt Edie’s hand pressing more and more upon his arm, but in his excitement this had not struck him as extraordinary; but now, as his attention was drawn to her, she dropped her bouquet, and in his effort to save her from sinking to the pavement the beautiful bunch of flowers was crushed under foot.

The next minute he had lifted the poor girl into the carriage, and handed the admiral’s stern looking sister to her side.

Darting a look of agony at Edie’s white face and the wreath and veil fallen aside, Guest drew back for the door to be closed, but Miss Jerrold made an imperious sign.

“No, no; come with us,” she said hoarsely. “You must help me; and explain. I dare not face my brother alone.”

Guest sprang into the carriage, the door was shut quickly, and the footman leaped to his place as the horses started forward with a loud trampling of hoofs, but not quickly enough to take them beyond the hearing of a derisive cheer.