Afterwards

On the day before that fixed for Iris Wayne's wedding a large garden party was held at Greengates; and fortunately the late September afternoon was all that could be desired in regard to sunshine and soft breezes.

The wedding itself was to be a comparatively quiet affair, only a score or two of intimate friends and relations being invited to the house after the ceremony; but Lady Laura had ordained that on the previous day half the countryside was to be entertained; and although there were some people who did not altogether approve of the match--for Bruce Cheniston was, after all, the brother of the notorious Mrs. Carstairs--the majority were only too ready to follow Sir Richard Wayne's lead and extend a hand of friendship to Miss Wayne's prospective bridegroom.

Anstice had received an invitation to both ceremonies, and had accepted, provisionally, for each; but in his heart he knew that no power on earth could induce him to see Iris Wayne married to another man; and although he duly appeared at Greengates while the garden party was in full swing he only remained there a brief half-hour.

As he was bidding Lady Laura good-bye, Iris, with whom he had as yet only exchanged a couple of words, came up to him with a friendly little smile on her lips.

"Are you leaving us already, Dr. Anstice? I don't believe you've even had a cup of tea--or what Daddy calls a peg. Have you?"

"Yes, thanks, Miss Wayne." He lied so convincingly that the girl believed him. "I'm just off again--you must excuse me, but you know my time is not my own."

"No." He thought she looked a little pale this afternoon. "I quite understand, and I think it is very nice of you to come at all. You are coming to-morrow?"

"I hope so." Again he lied, and something in the frank eyes which were raised to his made him ashamed of his mendacity. "Of course--it's possible I may be prevented, but in any case, Miss Wayne, please remember my best wishes will be yours all day."

As though reminded of something she spoke impulsively.

"Dr. Anstice, I've never thanked you--except in a note--for your lovely present. It is really quite the most uncommon one I have had, and I shall value it immensely."

"I am glad you like it," he said. He had sent her a pair of ancient Chinese vases which his father had received many years ago from the grateful wife of a mandarin to whom he had once rendered a service. "I hardly knew what to send you, and then I remembered you once said you liked curios."