But the sigh of relief that went up at its conclusion betokened not so
much satisfaction that another young couple were setting forth on the
troubled, tempting waters of matrimony, as that David had finished
another service and all might yet be well.
Carol, half way back in the church, had heard not one word of the
service.
"David is an angel, but I do wish he were a little less heavenly," she
thought passionately. "He--makes me nervous."
The carriage was at the door to take the minister and his wife to the
Daniels home for the bridal reception, but David said, "Tell him to
take us to the manse first, Carol. I've got to rest a minute. I'm
tired to-night."
In the living-room of the manse he carefully removed the handsome black
coat in which he had been graduated from the Seminary in Chicago, and
in which a little later he had been ordained for the ministry and
installed in his church in the Heights. Still later he had worn it at
his marriage. David hung it over the back of a chair, saying as he did
so:
"Wearing pretty well, isn't it? It may be called upon to officiate in
other crises for me, so it behooves me to husband it well."
Then he dropped heavily on the davenport before the fireplace, with
Carol crouching on a cushion beside him, stroking his hand.
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