The space on each side of the ribboned aisle from its beginning at the foot of the staircase to its terminus in front of the rose bank was thronged with guests. Came a subdued murmur from the friendly assemblage and a great craning of necks as the bridal cortÉge passed through the ribboned lane on its way to the altar.

The musicians had been stationed just inside the wide double doorway between the hall and the salon. Despite the stellar role which had been assigned to Jerry in the drama of Romance she managed to turn her head toward the orchestra, sending a fleeting, affectionate glance toward the slender golden-haired young woman smiling radiantly at her from a seat among the musicians.

Immediately the procession had passed the orchestra, Constance and Laurie rose and followed in order to join a certain small group of persons who were standing a little at the right of the altar. It comprised Mrs. Macy, Mr. and Mrs. Dean, Mr. and Mrs. Seabrooke and Jerry’s Sanford married chums, together with their husbands. There was Irma Linton, now Irma Norwood, and her ever devoted cavalier of high-school days, the “Crane.” Connie and Laurie, Marjorie and Hal, and Susan Atwell, now Susan Armstrong, with her tall bronzed western mate. Of the original sextette of Sanford youngsters who had been such famous pals Muriel Harding Lenox and her husband alone were missing. Jerry and Danny had been united in their desire to have near them during the ceremony those who had ever been, and would ever be, to them, their nearest, and dearest.

Followed the breathless hush which invariably precedes the momentous interval between the cessation of the wedding march and the beginning of the sacred ceremony of marriage. Followed the minister’s deep, resonant enunciation of “Dearly beloved,” as he took up the solemn words of the ceremony.

Marjorie alone heard Hal’s “Dearest,” murmured in her ear as one of his hands closed tenderly over her slim fingers. She returned the fervent pressure, a quick mist of tears blurring her eyes. Hal had put an infinity of meaning into that one murmured word of endearment, given to her alone to understand.

“My own dear wife,” Danny was saying to Jerry as he kissed her with a smile which Jerry ever after fondly cherished as the most beautiful smile she had ever seen on a man’s face.

A moment more, and she was receiving the congratulatory embraces of her father and mother. Next Hal kissed her, then passed her on to Marjorie. The smiling group of dear ones now hemmed the bridal pair in, eager to wish them good fortune.

Jerry and Connie met with wide-open arms, hugging each other with delighted vigor.

“You certainly put one over on me, you rascal!” Jerry exclaimed with slangy disregard for her newly-fledged title of Mrs. Daniel Seabrooke. “Oh, Connie, you can’t possibly guess how glad I felt to hear your dear voice singing the wedding song! I wanted to rush downstairs, then and there, and hug you. We’d given up hoping you and Laurie might be here at the wedding, and Danny was awfully blue about it. He had counted on Hal and Laurie and the ‘Crane’ as his special standbys.”

“I had no idea you esteemed me so highly, Dan-yell.” Laurie’s laughing voice broke in. He had fixed mischievous blue eyes upon Danny, face alight with the old love of teasing which had never yet failed to draw his freckled-faced pal into good-natured argument.

Danny’s becomingly serious expression had now vanished in a challenging grin. He could not resist the joy of a verbal tilt with Laurie.

“You know it now, but don’t let it turn your head,” he cautioned. “Absence caused me to think kindly of you. Now that you are here, my future good opinion of you will depend entirely upon the way you treat me. As a bran-new, extremely well-behaved husband I am entitled to your profound respect. As yet I see no flourishing signs of it in your manner toward me. I shall hope for the best, however,” he ended with mock encouragement.

“Here’s hoping.” Laurie showed white teeth in a broad smile.

“Matters look far from hopeful to me. Never mind, Mr. Armitage. Your wife at least respects me. Such being the case, I will overlook your decidedly disrespectful grin.”

“How about the one you’re sporting?” Laurie affably inquired.

“You must be seeing things.” Danny whisked the smile from his face in a twinkling, gazing at Laurie with wide-eyed solemnity.

“I see marriage hasn’t changed you,” Laurie retorted.

“It’s too early in the game to pass an opinion. A wise man would never do it,” Danny made reproving reply.

Thereupon both young men burst into laughter and wrung each other’s hands all over again.

“Believe me, I’m glad to have a grip on that good old hand,” Danny said seriously as he gave Laurie’s hand a final shake.

“Same here,” Laurie made warm response.

Further friendly exchange of pertinent pleasantries between them was cut short by the congratulatory demands upon Danny’s attention. Laurie and Connie also came in for a rush of cordial greeting from numerous old friends present at the wedding.

As a pretty courtesy to the guests, Reba and Nella, the little flower girls now circulated among them, giving them the roses from their baskets. There was to be a wedding supper in a huge tent that had been put up on the lawn, and also dancing in the ball room. Jerry and Danny would not leave on their wedding trip until after midnight in time to board a one-o’clock train that was to take them to the Adirondacks, where they had elected to spend their honeymoon in Hal’s camp.

“I’m going to have my wedding party just like the parties Hal and I used to give,” Jerry had said. “The minute the ceremony’s over—good-bye formality. Danny and I have arranged to go away on a late train, purposely, so that we can stay a while with the crowd and have a dandy good time.”

The first animated rush of congratulation having spent itself, Jerry and Danny separated briefly. Danny’s three Sanford pals had claimed him for their own for a few merry minutes of conversation. Jerry had a mission of her own to perform in which her bridesmaids were buoyantly interested. Each was hopeful that she might be the one to catch the bridal bouquet which Jerry was presently to throw among them.

Jerry-like she was now laughingly refusing to tell her watchful attendants just when, and from what point, she intended to cast the flowery token among them.

“Follow me, and see what happens,” she teased as she began a slow walk down the salon, and toward the reception hall, surrounded by a laughing, expostulating seven.

“Don’t worry. You couldn’t lose us if you tried,” Helen Trent assured the bride.

“You ought to give Robin and me a special tip-off, Jeremiah. What chance have we against five tall, long-armed ladies?” Vera complained plaintively.

“Pay no attention to Midget,” counseled Leila. “What she lacks in height she makes up in quickness. If she does not snap up the bouquet from under our very noses it will not be for lack of trying.”

“It’s sportsmanlike to try out this grab game, but if it means ‘Leslie, you’ll be married next,’ then I hope I miss,” Leslie confided to Leila in an undertone. “I’ve contracted to keep house for Peter the Great for the next few years, so that lets me out,” she averred with her slow smile.

“I am fondling no hopes in that direction, either,” Leila murmured. “My ideal is a nice, white-haired old gentleman who will defer to me on all occasions; one who will enjoy being unmercifully bossed.” She rolled her blue eyes drolly at Leslie, who giggled softly.

“When you find him, don’t forget to invite me to your wedding,” she stipulated.

“You shall be my maid of honor,” Leila made affable promise. “By then, we shall be old and gray, I am afraid, and be wearing bonnets and spectacles.”

Jerry and her alert following had now reached the foot of the grand stairway. She set one slim, satin-shod foot upon the first step of the staircase as though about to begin the ascent of the stairs. Then she suddenly whirled about and tossed her bridal bouquet high in the air, well above the heads of the eager group of girls. A wild scramble for it ensued, accompanied by excited feminine cries. An instant, and a shout of gay laughter ascended from the animated group. Came a merry chorus of: “Leila’s going to be married next. Leila’s going to be married next.”