<h2>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2>
<h3>A BULLY WORLD</h3></div>
<p>As Sally came down the stairs at a quarter of
three in her white silk wedding gown the wonder
was how, after a morning of such honest
hard work as she had put in, it was possible
for her to look so fresh. Many a town bride,
after spending the entire morning resting in
preparation for such an event, has at the last
moment failed to turn up with such apple-red
cheeks or brilliant eyes. There was a gently
serious expression about her mouth, to be
sure, but that was not due to fatigue. In spite
of her light-heartedness during the last few
days she had been all the while keenly conscious
that she was accepting a great responsibility.
She was about to marry not only a
lover, but a man whose future was to be in her
keeping. Among other things he was to be a
future partner in the firm of Carter, Rand &
Seagraves, and that meant several years of
very hard work ahead of them. Then there
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_317' name='page_317'></SPAN>317</span>
were the secret responsibilities––the unborn
responsibilities. These were not very definite,
to be sure, but she felt them, timidly, gravely,
in queer little tuggings at her heart.</p>
<p>When finally she stood in front of the clergyman
with Don by her side, she felt, not that
she was in a bower of wild flowers, but before
an altar. The ritual for her had a deeply religious
significance. She made her responses in
a steady voice heard by every one in the room.
When she made the promise “to love, cherish,
and obey,” she spoke it as though she meant
it. It did not disturb her in the slightest to
utter the word “obey,” because she knew well
that whatever commands came to her from
Don would be of her own inspiring. To her
this promise was no more than an agreement
to obey her own best impulses.</p>
<p>The service seemed almost too brief for so
solemn an undertaking, but when it was over,
she reached for Don’s hand and took it in a
hearty grip that was more of a pledge than the
ring itself. It sent a tingle to his heart and
made his lips come together––the effect, a
hundred times magnified, of the coach’s slap
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_318' name='page_318'></SPAN>318</span>
upon the back that used to thrill him just before
he trotted on the field before a big game.
He felt that the harder the obstacles to be
overcome for her dear sake, the better. He
would like to have had a few at that moment as
a relief to his pent-up emotions.</p>
<p>He remembered in a sort of impatient daze
the congratulations that followed––with the
faces of Mrs. Halliday and Barton standing
out a trifle more prominently––and then the
luncheon. It seemed another week before she
went upstairs to change into her traveling-dress;
another week before she reappeared.
Then came good-byes and the shower of rice,
with an old shoe or so mixed in. He had sent
her trunk the day before to the mountain
hotel where they were to be for a week, but
they walked to the station, he carrying her
suitcase. Then he found himself on the train,
and in another two hours they were at the
hotel. It was like an impossible dream come
true when finally they stood for the first time
alone––she as his wife. He held out his arms
to her and she came this time without protest.</p>
<p>“Heart of mine,” he whispered as he kissed
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_319' name='page_319'></SPAN>319</span>
her lips again and again,––“heart of mine,
this is a bully old world.”</p>
<p>“You’ve made it that, Don.”</p>
<p>“I? I haven’t had anything to do about it
except to get you.”</p>
<hr class='toprule' />
<div class='chsp'>
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_320' name='page_320'></SPAN>320</span>
<SPAN name='CHAPTER_XXXIV_DON_MAKES_GOOD' id='CHAPTER_XXXIV_DON_MAKES_GOOD'></SPAN>
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