Betty looked too.

That bower of golden-hearted roses had drawn her glances more than once that morning.

Now in the midst of it, in a morning dress of pink, fresh and fair as a blossom herself, stood Eugenia, reaching up for a half-blown bud above her head.

Her sleeves fell back from her graceful white arms, and as she broke the bud from its stem a shower of rose-petals fell on her dusky hair and upturned face.
Then Betty saw that Doctor Bradford had passed on into the house, leaving Stuart standing there with his hat in his hand, smiling up at the beautiful picture above him.
"Good morrow, Juliet," he called, softly.

"Happy is the bride the sun shines on.