"Yes."
They lingered a moment longer; he said:
"I don't know how I am going to endure life without you until five o'clock."
She said seriously: "I can't bear to leave you, Jim. But you know you have almost as many things to do as I have."
"As though a man could attend to things on his wedding day!"
"This girl has to. I don't know how I am ever going to go through the last odds and ends of business—but it's got to be managed somehow. Do you really think we had better go up to Silverwood in the car? Won't this snow make the roads bad? It may not have melted in the country."
"Oh, it's all right! And I'll have you to myself in the car——"
"Suppose we are ditched?" She shivered again, then forced a little laugh. "Do you know, it doesn't seem possible to me that I am going to be your wife to-morrow, too, and the next day, and the next, and always, year after year. Somehow, it seems as though our dream were already ending—that I shall not see you at five o'clock—that it is all unreal——"
The smile faded, and into her blue eyes came something resembling fear—gone instantly—but the hint of it had been there, whatever it was; and the ghost of it still lingered in her white, flower-like face.