decided. "The sight would be too much for you. In a day or two, when you have become more reconciled to your great loss, I will take you there." 

"You know best, Doctor Gardiner," she sobbed, as they re-entered the vehicle. "I will do whatever you think is best." 

"Where to, sir?" asked the driver, touching his cap. 

"We will go to Central Park," he answered; then turning to Bernardine, he added: "When we reach there, we will alight and dismiss this man. We will sit down on one of the benches, talk matters over, and decide what is best to be done--where you would like to go for your wedding-trip; but, my love, my sweetheart, my life, you must not call me 'Doctor Gardiner.' To you, from this time on, I am Jay, your own fond husband!"

Jay Gardiner had taken fate in his own hands. He had married the girl he loved, casting aside every barrier that lay between them, even to facing the wrath, and, perhaps, the world's censure in deserting the girl to whom he was betrothed, but whom he did not love. 

He was deeply absorbed in thinking about this as the cab stopped at the park entrance. 

"Come, my darling!" exclaimed Jay, kissing fondly the beautiful face upturned to him, "we will alight and talk over our plans for the future." 

She clung to him, as he with tender care, lifted her from the vehicle. He was her husband, this grand, kingly, fair-haired man, at whom the women passing looked so admiringly. She could hardly realize it, hardly dare believe it, but for the fact that he was calling her his darling bride with every other breath. 

He found her a seat beneath a wide-spreading tree, where the greensward was like velvet beneath their feet, and the air was redolent with the scent of flowers that rioted in the sunshine hard by. 

"Now, first of all, my precious Bernardine, we must turn our thoughts in a practical direction long enough to select which hotel we are to go to; and another quite as important matter, your wardrobe, you know." 

Bernardine looked up at him gravely. 

"This dress will do for the present," she declared. "The good, kind old nurse dried and pressed it out so nicely for me that it looks almost as good as new. And as for going to a hotel, I am sure it is too expensive. We could go to a boarding-house where the 

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