A smile came back into Sue's gray eyes. "My dear brother!" she exclaimed.
"Oh, I'm not blind."
Sue addressed the room. "Our young mining-engineer," she observed with mock gravity, "'he is jealousy'."
Wallace was trembling. "I love her," he said half-brokenly; "I love her better than anything else in the world! But—but did you see her look at him? when she had her wedding-dress on, and he and I came in?"
"Wallace!"—pity and reproval mingled in Sue's tone. Again she laid a hand on his sleeve. "Oh, don't let doubt or—or anything enter your heart now—at this wonderful hour of your life—oh, Wallace, when you're just beginning all your years with her! Your marriage must be happy! Marriages can be happy—I know it! They're not all like her mother's. But don't start wrong! Oh, don't start wrong!" There were tears in her eyes.
Farvel came in from the Church. He was himself again, and slammed the door quite cheerily.
Wallace turned almost as if to intercept him. "I've fixed everything, old man," he said quickly. "It's all right."
"But I can officiate as well as not," urged Farvel, passing the younger man by and coming to Sue. "I don't want you to think I'm notional."
"She won't," declared Wallace, before Sue could speak. "I've explained."
"Ah." Farvel nodded, satisfied. "You—you know, then. Well, I've always wanted you to know."