Nedra | Page 4

there was no question. Tall, fair,
brown-eyed and full of the life that loves, she ruled the hearts of many
and--kept her hand for one. Her short, gay life had been one of luxury
and ease. She had known few of its cares; its vicissitudes belonged to
the charities she supported with loyal persistency. Her aunt, society
mad, was her only mentor, her only guide. A path had been made for
her, and she saw no other alternative than to travel it as designed. A
careless, buoyant heart, full of love and tenderness and warmth,
allowed itself to be tossed by all of the emotions, but always sank back
safely into the path of duty and rectitude. It was not of sufficient
moment to combat her aunt's stubborn authority; it was so much easier
to do her own sweet will without conflict and then smile down on the
consequences.
Possibly it is true that she did not love her aunt. If that were the case,
she kept it well to herself. She could not have been blamed, however,
for disliking the dictator. Hugh Ridgeway was more or less right when
he said that no one in town admired the old lady. She was hard, devoid
of humor, wrapped up in her own selfishness; shrewd, capable and

resourceful. Her brother, on his deathbed, signed the instrument which
made this arrogant relative the arbiter of the girl's future for many years
to come. She was appointed guardian and trustee until legal age was
attained, and as such she was absolute in her power. The large fortune
was to be held in trust by this aunt, Mrs. Torrence, and the Hon.
Stanley Goodland, until Grace was twenty-three years of age. The
income from the investments in bonds, real estate and high-class
securities was to be handled by Mrs. Torrence as she saw fit in the
effort to better the young woman's mental and social estate. To do her
justice, she performed the duties well and honorably, even though her
measure of human nature was not full to overflowing. Grace, with a
mind and heart of her own, undertook to cultivate human nature from
her own point of view after years of tolerance, and she succeeded so
well that her aunt was none the wiser.
On one point, however, the paragon was so firm and unassailable that
Grace was obliged to confess failure to her lover, after weeks and
weeks of splendid argument. Her aunt forced an issue. The marriage of
her niece was to be brilliant to the verge of confusion and the
ante-nuptial season was to be one which the city should not forget
while its promoter lived to enjoy the emoluments. She knew she was
making her niece unhappy, but she argued that her niece was too deeply
in love to appreciate the value of opportunity. Besides, on her wedding
day, Grace Vernon would be twenty-three years of age, mistress of
herself, her fortune, and her husband's home. That day would end the
reign of Elizabeth Torrence. The arbiter was determined that the reign
should end in a blaze of glory.
As for Grace and Hugh, they were to be married. That had been
decided upon by destiny years and years ago and ratified after Hugh
had reached an age of discretion. He said that twenty-five was the year
of discretion, if not of reason.
After the first transports, each began to consider the importance of the
union, not only to themselves, but to the world at large. In their
reflective moments they realized that the marriage would be the most
wonderful event in the whole history of the homes of Vernon and

Ridgeway. Never before had a Vernon married a Ridgeway, and--vice
versa. Therefore, the whole world would visit upon such a union its
undivided attention. That is the view all engaged people take of
marriage.
Miss Vernon had employed six weeks of argument in convincing Mr.
Ridgeway that a church wedding was imperative, although she
admittedly preferred the simpler form, where the minister conducts the
ceremony in the presence of two witnesses and a ring. Society
demanded the exhibition. Mr. Ridgeway warned her that he could not
survive the ordeal and would leave her a widow at the altar.
Their difficulties had at last resolved themselves into that condition
which confronts every engaged pair; and they, like others, were
preparing to inform the world of their intentions.
"There's no way out of it, Hugh," she finally sighed, "unless we decide
to give up the hope of getting married. That would break my heart," she
said, with her rarest smile.
"This would be the most delightful period of my life if it were not for
that distressing announcement, the two months of purgatory between
now and the day of the wedding, and