"Why, I'd be willing to serve as the preacher to see you and Miss Enid get married," said Quin heartily. Then his thoughts flew after his departed Tuxedo and the gorgeous wing-toed pumps. "What'll I have to wear?"
"It is to be a noon affair," reassured Mr. Chester. "Simple morning coat, you know, and light-gray tie."
Quin's ideas concerning a morning coat were extremely vague, and the possibility of his procuring one vaguer still; but the occasion was too portentous to admit of hesitation. He and Mr. Chester continued their walk to the far end of the shed, and then stood looking down at the coal cars being loaded from the yards.
"White gloves, I suppose?" observed Quin.
"Pearl gray, with very narrow stitching. I think that's better taste, don't you?"
"Sure," agreed Quin. "Flower in the buttonhole, or anything like that?"
While this all-important detail was being decided, a clanging bell and the hiss of an engine announced the incoming train. Before the two waiting cavaliers could reach the gate, Eleanor Bartlett came through, laden with wraps and umbrellas.
"I like the way you meet us," she called out. "For mercy sake, help me." And she deposited her burden in Quin's outstretched arms. Then, as Mr. Chester strode past them with flying coat-tails in quest of Miss Enid, she burst out laughing.
"Say, you are looking great," said Quin, with devouring eyes, as he surveyed her over the top of his impedimenta.
"It's more than you are." She scanned his face in dismay. "Have you been sick?"