"We shall take lunch in half an hour, Barry," called Mr. Howland after him. "We're due at Pitlochry, you know, for dinner."

"All right, sir," said Barry. "We'll be on hand."

"I wonder if she's got the nerve," said Paula to Captain Neil as they stood looking after them.

"I wonder," said Captain Neil, looking at her. "Would you?"

"Would I," said Paula, with sudden shyness. "I--but you are not going away in two days."

"No, thank the good Lord," said Captain Neil, fervently, "but, Paula, I'll not forget."

At Pitlochry they found their mail awaiting them.

"A telegram for you, Barry," said Paula, who had assumed the duty of postman.

They all paused in examining their mail to watch Barry open his wire.

"Guess," he shouted, holding his telegram high.

"Oh, glory, I know!" exclaimed Paula. "Extended leave. How much?"

"'Oh, excellent young maid, how much elder art thou than thy looks!'"

"Oh, Barry!" exclaimed Phyllis. "How much?"

"Five days, five whole days."

"Humph! It's the least they could do. They might have made it ten,"

grumbled Paula.

"Mr. Howland, may I speak to you a moment?" Barry's look and voice were eloquent of resolve.

"Certainly, Barry. Immediately?"

"If you please, sir."

They retired to a corner, where Barry could be seen with ardent look and vehement gesture putting his proposition to Mr. Howland, whose face showed mingled pleasure and perplexity. The others waited patiently for the conference to end.

"Oh, pshaw!" said Paula, "Barry ought to know by this time that the pater simply can't make up his mind without me. I know what they are at."

She moved over to them.

"Now, father, of course you will do as Barry wishes," she declared.

"Oh, I know what he wants. Now listen to me. Just wire Mrs. Vincent that everything is perfectly all right, that you can guarantee Barry, and that it's the sensible thing, the only thing to do under the circumstances. Oh, we'll have it in that dear little church. Splendid.

Perfectly ripping! Eh, Phyllis? Come over here at once. Now, father, get busy on the wire. Why waste a perfectly good hour in just talking about it? What do you say, folks? How many say 'Ay'?"

Up went Barry's two hands, and with them Neil's and Paula's.

"What about you, miss?" asked Paula, turning wrathfully toward Phyllis.

Phyllis walked quietly to Barry's side.

"Barry," she said, giving him her hand, "I have decided to be married to-morrow. I shall wire mamma."

Barry answered her only with his eyes.

"By Jove!" said Paula, "you Britishers are the limit, for stolid, unemotional people. Here am I shouting my head off like a baseball fan, to get this thing put through, and you quietly walk up and announce that everything's fixed but the band."

The wires to London that afternoon were kept busy, a message going to Mrs. Vincent from each member of the party, but it was felt that that from Phyllis to her mother was really all that was necessary.

"Dearest Mamma--Barry and I are to be married tomorrow. English law makes London impossible, as Barry has only five days. I am very happy, feeling sure you approve. Our dearest, dearest love.

"Phyllis."

A long wire also went from Barry to Mr. Robertson, the minister of the little church, where they had spent such a delightful hour that morning, but this wire Barry showed to no one.

The bride's bouquet was from the manse garden, a shower of white roses, no purer and no sweeter than the bride herself. At the church door, the party stood shrinking from the moment of parting. At length Paula took matters in hand.

"As usual," she said, "the heavy work falls to me. Dear Mrs.

Robertson"--to the minister's wife--"goodbye. I shall always love you and your dear little church."

She put her arms around the minister's wife and kissed her.

"Oh, we're going to see them off," said that lady. "Lead the way, Captain Dunbar, please," she added, with a bright smile, giving him a little push.

"Come, Phyllis," said Barry offering his wife his arm, and they started off down the street toward the lake.

"Will you permit me?" said the minister, offering his arm to Paula, who in mystified silence took it without a word.

"May I have the pleasure?" said Mr. Howland, offering his arm to Mrs.

Robertson.

"Come, Captain Fraser," she said gaily, offering him the other arm.

"Just what is happening to me, I don't pretend to know," said Paula, "but whatever it is, America is in this thing to the finish."

Barry stopped at the boathouse landing. There, tied to the dock, floated the Canadian canoe, laden with tent and camp outfit, and with extra baskets provided from the manse.

"Oh, Barry, how wonderful! How perfectly wonderful!" cried Paula in an ecstasy of delight.

In that farewell there were tears and smiles, but more smiles than tears. The last to touch their hands was Paula. She managed to draw them apart from the others, with her eyes glistening with unaccustomed tears.

"You deserve each other. Phyllis," she whispered, alternately shaking and kissing her, "there was a day when I would have fought you for him, until Neil came. Barry, you dear boy, you may kiss me goodbye, and oh, may you both live forever."

"Goodbye, dear Paula," cried Phyllis. "You have been so lovely to me from the very first. I shall never, never forget you."

"Goodbye, Paula," said Barry, "dearest of all dear friends."