Oh, of course it might be bought in New York if one had the time to shop around, but the hometown wasn’t New York, and no one had the time. Camilla stood in the sitting room of the hotel suite she and her mother were occupying together and drew her brows together in perplexity, trying to think of some dress she had herself that would do, that she could lend to someone, no matter who, so that the wedding procession should not be lacking a maid of honor. She was resigning herself to doing without a maid of honor when Jeffrey Wainwright walked in and wanted to know why Camilla’s eyes didn’t light at his coming as they had lighted all day whenever he had appeared on the scene.

Camilla told him anxiously what was the matter, and he met her worry with a smile.

“That’s all right,” he said gaily when he had listened to the tale and stood looking at the telegram over Camilla’s shoulder. “Get Mary Beth! That is, if you don’t mind having one of my cousins instead of one of your own friends. Mary Beth always has oodles of clothes along with her of every kind. She’ll find something that will do. She’s just arrived, and she’ll love to do it. You haven’t met Mary Beth yet, have you? She’s my very best cousin and just got back from abroad. Shall I go get her? She’s only down the hall a little way. Just show her what you want and she’ll manage it somehow; she always can.”

And so Mary Elizabeth had come, smiling at Jeff’s summons. She had kissed Camilla and her mother, had looked over the bridal array, including the bridesmaids’ crisp pale gowns, and then had departed with a confident smile and a lift of her happy chin as she said, “Leave it to me! I’ll love to do it. I’ve got just the right thing—a pale rose chiffon I picked up in Paris—a little confection and just as simple as a baby!”

And when Camilla saw her an hour later as Mary Beth slipped in for inspection, she forgot her worries, knowing that the simple little dress from the exclusive Paris shop knew how to keep its distinguished lines in their place and would never stand out as being too fine for its associates.

And so quite unexpectedly, Camilla came to know and love Mary Elizabeth. But of this John Saxon knew nothing at all.

And now, though John was sorely tempted to study the face across from him to the exclusion of everything else, he was a dependable person, and he knew his responsibility as a best man. He had a ring to deliver at just the right moment, and he was not a man to forget his duty. So he held his eyes and his thoughts in leash until the ring was safely given to Jeff and Jeff had placed it on Camilla’s finger, and then his glance lifted and met the glance of Mary Elizabeth, and both of them smiled with their eyes. Though their lips were perfectly decorous, each of them knew that they had been enjoying that little ceremony of the ring together. Mary Elizabeth was now holding the great bouquet of orchids, along with her own green and white and blush-rose sheaf. Sweet, fine Mary Elizabeth! John thought how sweet and unspoiled she looked, and stood there watching her with his eyes alight, thinking quick eager thoughts, his mind leaping ahead. In a few minutes now, or it might be even seconds, it would be his duty to turn and march down that aisle by her side, and he could actually speak to her. They had not been introduced, but that was a mere formality. They were set in this wedding picture to march together, and they could not go like dummies because they had not been introduced. He thrilled at the thought of speaking to her.

The prayer was over, the solemn final sentences said that made Camilla Chrystie and Jeffrey Wainwright man and wife, the tender consummating kiss given. Mary Elizabeth handed Camilla her lovely white orchids and adjusted the veil and the quaint, old-fashioned train, and Jeffrey and Camilla started down the way of life together. Then Mary Elizabeth adjusted her own flowers and turned, smiling, to greet the best man who stood there breathless above her.

John laid her hand on his arm as if it were something breakable. The thrill of it gave his face a radiance even through the Florida bronze. He looked down at her eagerly, as though they were long-lost friends who had by some miracle come together again.

“I’ve been looking for you for a long time!” he said as they wheeled into step. Mary Elizabeth looked up and saw something arresting and almost disturbing in his glance.

“Yes?” she said brightly. “I have been running around a good deal today. I guess I was hard to find.”

“Oh, not just today!” said John, conscious that the next measure was the one they should start on to follow the bride and groom. “A long time! Years! In fact, I guess I always knew there would be you sometime! But will you mind if I’m abrupt? We’ve only got from here to the door to talk and then the mob will snatch us apart, and I’ve got to leave on the midnight train!”

“Oh!” breathed Mary Elizabeth, looking up wonderingly into his eyes, a sparkle in her own.

They were off in perfect time with the stately old march now, quite unconscious of the eager audience watching them with keen eyes, not realizing that they were the next most interesting pair in the whole show, after the bride and groom, who had now passed out of sight of all except a few who deliberately turned around and stared at John and Mary Elizabeth’s backs.

“Who is she?” whispered Sallie Lane to Mrs.