“In a church?”

“Not exactly a church.  You see it was rather late in the evening.  The care-taker had gone to bed.  In fact we had to get the Rector out of his.”

“Bern’s!”

“He didn’t mind.  Said he’d sleep all the better for it.  And he wore his gown—­over his pyjamas—­very effective.”

“Had the man no conscientious scruples?” sternly.

“Scruples—­against pyjamas?”

“Against mixed marriages.”

“I don’t know.  I didn’t ask him.  We weren’t discussing the ethics of mixed marriage.”

“Don’t pretend to misunderstand me, Benis.  For a man who has married an Indian, your levity is disgraceful.”

“How ridiculous, Aunt!  If you will listen to an explanation—­”

“I need no explanation,” Aunt Caroline, once more mistress of herself rose majestically.  “I hope I know an Indian when I see one.  I am not blind, I believe.  But as there seems to be no question as to the marriage, I have nothing further to say.  Another woman in my place might feel justified in voicing a just resentment, but I have made it a rule to expect nothing from any relative, especially if that relative be, even partially, a Spence.  When my poor, dear sister married your father I told her what she was doing.  And she lived to say, ‘Caroline, you were right!’ That was my only reward.  More I have never asked.  All that I have ever required of my sister’s child has been ordinary docility and reliance upon my superior sense and judgment.  Now when I find that, in a matter so serious as marriage, neither my wishes nor my judgment have been considered, I am not surprised.  I may be shocked, outraged, overwhelmed, but I am not surprised.”

“Bravo!” said Benis involuntarily.  He couldn’t help feeling that Aunt Caroline was really going strong.  “What I mean to say,” he added, “is that you are quite right Aunt, except in these particulars, in which you are entirely wrong.  But before we go further, what about a little sustenance.  Aren’t you horribly hungry?”

“I am sure they are both starved,” said Desire.  “And I hate to remind you that you ate the last sandwich.  Will you make Aunt Caroline comfortable while I cut some more?  Perhaps Dr. John will help me—­although we haven’t shaken hands yet.”

She held out her hands to the uneasy doctor with a charming gesture of understanding.  “Did you expect to see a squaw, too’, Doctor?”

“I expected to see, just you.”  His response was a little too eager.  “I had seen you before—­by a pool, bending over—­”

“Oh, the photograph?  Benis is terribly proud of it,”

“Best I’ve ever done,” confirmed the professor.  “Did you notice the curious light effect on that silver birch at the left?”

“Wonderful,” said Rogers, but he wasn’t thinking of the light effect on the silver birch.  As he followed Desire to the tent his orderly mind was in a tumult.  “He doesn’t know how wonderful she is!” he thought.  “And she doesn’t care whether he does or not.  And that explains—­” But he saw in a moment that it didn’t explain anything.  It only made the mystery deeper.