“You didn’t strike your head against the running board?”

“No!” she gasped breathlessly, trying to draw away. “I’m quite all right. But please, I must hurry. I am late now.”

“Where do you want to go?” he asked, shifting his hand to her elbow and taking a forward step with her.

“Over there”—she motioned frantically—“to the church. I must get in before the ceremony begins.”

“You ought to wait until you get your breath,” he urged.

“I can’t! I’ve got to get there!” and she tried to pull away from him and fly across the street. But he kept easy pace with her, helping her up to the curb.

“Don’t you want to go around to the front door?” he said as she turned toward the side entrance.

“No!” she said, her heart beating so fast that it almost choked her. “This little side door. I want to get up to the choir loft.”

“Well, I’m coming with you!” he announced, fairly lifting her up the steps. “You’re all shaken up from that fall. You’re trembling! Can I take you to your friends? You’re not fit to be alone.”

“I’m—all—right!” panted Sherrill, fetching a watery smile and finding the tears right at hand.

“Don’t hurry!” he commanded, circling her waist impersonally with a strong arm and fairly lifting her up the narrow winding stair that led to the choir loft. “You’ve plenty of time. Don’t you hear? Those are the preliminary chords to the wedding march. The bride must be just at the door! Take it slow and easy!”

They arrived at the top of the stair in an empty choir loft. It was a church of formal arrangement, with the organ console down out of sight somewhere and the choir high above the congregation, visible only when standing to sing, and then only to one who dared to look aloft.

The whole quiet place was fully screened by plumy palms, and great feathery tropical ferns, and not even a stray from the street had discovered this vantage point from which to watch the ceremony. They had it all to themselves. No curious eyes could watch the face of the agonized bride-that-was-to-have-been.

Sherrill nestled in wearily against the wall behind the thickest palm, where yet she could peer through and see everything. She thanked her unknown friend pantingly with a hasty fervor, and then forgot he was still beside her.

Breathlessly she leaned forward, looking down, catching a glimpse of the bridegroom as he stood tall and handsome beside the best man, a smile of expectancy upon his face. Her bridegroom, watching for her to come! Her heart contracted and a spasm of pain passed over her face. She mustn’t, oh, she mustn’t cry! This wasn’t her wedding! This was something she must nerve herself to go through. This was something tragic that must move aright or all the future would be chaos.

Then she remembered and her eyes turned tragically, alertly, down the aisle to the front door, her hand unconsciously pressed against her heart in a quick little frantic motion.

Yes, the bride had arrived! Of course she might have known that or the wedding march would not be ringing out its first stately measures! Yes, there was the huddle of rainbow-colored dresses that were the bridesmaids. How glad she was that none of them were really intimate friends. All of them new friends from Aunt Pat’s circle of acquaintances. Her own girlhood friends were all too poor or too far away to be summoned. The first of them, the pink ones, were stepping forward now, slowly differentiating themselves from the mass of color, beginning the procession with measured, stilled tread; and back in the far dimness of the hall, silhouetted against the darkness of the out-of-doors, she could see the mist of whiteness that must be the bride, with the tall dark cousin beside her. Yes, the bride had come. Sherrill’s secret fear that she might somehow lose her nerve and escape on the way to the church was unfounded. This girl really wanted Carter enough to go through this awful ordeal to get him! Besides, a girl couldn’t very well run away and hope to escape detection in a bridal gown. Sherrill felt a hysterical laugh coming to her lips that changed into a quiver of tears, and a little shiver that ran down her back. And then suddenly she felt that strong arm again just under her elbow, supporting her, just as her knees began to manifest a tendency to crumple under her.

“Oh, thank you!” she breathed softly, letting her weight rest on his arm. “I’m—a little—nervous—I guess!”

“You aren’t fit to stand!” he whispered.