"Kling! lang-ling!
She seems to hear her bride-bells ring,
Her bonnie bride-bells ring!"
He hummed it again when Joyce's second guess was wrong, while he waited for the third. Then, when it, too, was wide of the mark and she demanded to be told, he began it again; but this time he sang it meaningly, and loud enough to fill the room with the deep, sweet notes:
"A year by seas, a year by lands,
A year since then has died,
And Elsie at the altar stands,
Her sailor at her side.
While kling! lang! ling!
Their bonnie bride-bells gaily ring!"
Joyce's face grew bright with sudden understanding as he finished, and she cried, "Elsie is to be married! Is that what you came to tell me?"
"Yes, my littlest, onliest sister is to be married, immediately after Easter, out in California, in the Gold-of-Ophir rose-garden you have heard so much about. We are all going—Daddy and Stuart and Eugenia and little Patricia and your obedient servant, 'Pat's Pill,' himself."
He left the window, and stretching himself out in the big chair opposite hers, gave her the details that she instantly demanded.
"Elsie's sailor lad is a navy surgeon. The wedding is to be in the rose-garden, because there is where they first met, and there is where Elsie has had all the best times of her life. She has always lived with mother's people, you know, since our home was broken up, and even before mother's death, we used to spend our winters there. Yes, Daddy opposed the marriage at first, but you know Daddy. He'd hardly think an archangel good enough for Elsie."
The news had the effect which Phil had foreseen, and Joyce's own affairs retired into the background, while she discussed the matter which was of such vital importance to the whole Tremont family. Later, he asked her to name all the things she considered the most desirable and unique as wedding gifts, and they were still adding to the list from which he was to make his choice, when they heard Mrs. Boyd come out into the hall to turn on the light. In the bright firelight, they had not noticed how dark it had grown outside. Joyce looked at the clock and sprang up, exclaiming:
"Lucy will be wanting her cream toast, and it's time also for me to pay my forfeit to you. How much of a supper are you going to claim, young man?"
"That depends on how many good left-overs there are in the pantry and ice-box," said Phil, rising also. "I'll come and investigate, myself, thank you."