Nedra | Page 6

and feverishly wrote upon the backs of a number of
his calling cards the names of as many cities, his companion looking
over his shoulder eagerly. Without ado he tossed the cards into a
jardinière in lieu of a hat. "Draw!" he said tragically.
"Wait a minute, Hugh. What have we to elope from? There isn't the
faintest objection in the world to our marriage."
"There you go--backing out!"
"No; I'm just as willing as you, but doesn't it seem rather absurd?" Her
hand hung over the jardinière irresolutely.
"It will be the greatest wedding tour that mortals ever took. Draw!"
"Well, then, there's the card. Mercy!" she cried, dropping a card on the
table. "That's a long distance, Hugh."
He picked up the card and his face paled a little as he read:
"Manila!"
They sat down in the chair, she on the arm as before. After a moment
he glanced at her perplexed face, and asked:

"Are you afraid to go, Grace?"
"It isn't that, Hugh. I was just wondering if we could reach Manila by
the twenty-third of May. It is unlucky to change the wedding day after
it has been once selected," she said softly.
"Grace Vernon, you are an angel. I was afraid you would show the
white feather. It's a go, then--Manila! We can start next week and get
there in good time."
"Next week? Impossible!" she cried in alarm.
"Nonsense! You can get ready for a trip to New York, making your
preparations for a sea voyage secretly. I'll attend to all the details. It
will be easy. No one will ever dream of what we are doing until we
cable the news home to your aunt."
"Oh, I must tell Aunt Elizabeth!"
"Not much! That's no way to elope. We must do it correctly or not at all.
Nobody is to know until we are really married. Can you get ready in a
week?"
"If I really must."
"Can't take any more time than that if we want to reach Manila in time
for the wedding."
"Oh, Hugh! We can't go to Manila!" she cried, suddenly starting to her
feet in distress. "My Uncle Harry lives there. He is my mother's only
brother and he's been there since the close of the war. He's in the hemp
business. Oh, dear! How provoking!" she concluded almost piteously.
"It's fine!" he exclaimed jubilantly. "We can be married at his home.
I'm sure he'll be happy to have us. You can write and tell him we're
coming, dear. Lord!" with great relief in his voice, "that simplifies
matters immensely. Now we have an excuse for going to Manila. But
above all things don't cable to him. Write a nice long letter and mail it

just before we start."
She was silent a long while, staring soberly at the blaze in the grate.
"There'll be no bridesmaids and ushers over there, Hugh."
"We don't want 'em."
Silence for a few minutes.
"In a week, did you say?"
"Positively."
"Well, I'll be ready," she said solemnly.
He kissed her tenderly, lovingly, pressed her cold hand and said
encouragingly:
"We'll meet in New York next Monday afternoon. Leave everything to
me, dear. It will be much pleasanter to go by way of London and it will
help to kill a good deal of time."
"Hugh," she said, smiling faintly, "I think we're proving that father was
right. I can't possibly arrive at the age of discretion until I am
twenty-three and past."
CHAPTER II
THE BEGINNING OF FLIGHT
Mr. Ridgeway paced back and forth outside the iron gates in the Grand
Central Station on the afternoon of April 1st, 190--, a smile of
anticipation and a frown of impatience alternating in his fresh, young
face. Certain lines of care seemed to have disappeared since we saw
him last, nearly a week ago, and in their stead beamed the light of a
new-found interest in life. Now and then he took from his pocket a
telegram; spectators stared amusedly at him as he read and reread:

DETROIT, MICHIGAN, March 81, 190--.
To H.B. Ridge:
Got away safely. Meet me Forty-second Street, New York, to-morrow
at three. Feel awfully queer and look a fright. Sympathetic lady, next
compartment, just offered condolences for loss of my husband. What
are the probabilities of storm? Be sure and find out before we start.
SISTER GRACE.
"Isn't that just like a girl!" he muttered to himself. "Where else would
Forty-second Street be but New York! London?"
They had decided to travel as brother and sister and to adopt Ridge as
the surname. Hugh had taken passage for Liverpool on the liner Saint
Cloud, to sail on the second, having first examined the list of
passengers to ascertain if there were any among them who might know
him