"Mel, I'm afraid it's no use," he said, finally.
"We are finding what the world thinks of us," replied Mel. "Tell the man to drive to 204 Locust Street."
Once more the driver headed his humming car into the white storm.
Once more Lane sat silent, with his heart raging. Once more Mel peered out into the white turmoil of gloom.
"Daren, we're going to Dr. Wallace, my old minister. He'll marry us," she said, presently.
"Why didn't I think of him?"
"I did," answered Mel, in a low voice. "I know he would marry us. He baptized me; he has known and loved me all my life. I used to sing in his choir and taught his Sunday School for years."
"Yet you let me go to those others. Why?"
"Because I shrank from going to him."
Once more the car lurched into the gutter, and this time they both got out and mounted the high steps. Lane knocked. They waited what appeared a long time before they heard some one fumbling with the lock. Just then the bell in the church tower nearby began chiming the midnight hour. The door opened, and Doctor Wallace himself admitted them.