This sentimental explosion was too much for tender-hearted Sadie. She gave way completely and swore not to breathe another word in opposition to the elopement. And as she felt her beloved cousin’s body shaken with sobs, she forced herself to go into 32 ecstasies over Travers Gladwin’s manly beauty and god-like intellect. In her haste to soothe she went to extravagant lengths and cried:
“And he must have looked heavenly in his bathing suit when he made that wonderful rescue.”
Down fell Helen’s muff with as much of a crash as a muff could make and she turned upon her companion the most profoundly shocked expression of a bride-about-to-be.
“Sadie,” she reproved stiffly, “you have gone far enough.”
Whereupon it was Sadie’s turn to seek the sanctuary of tears.
CHAPTER V.
WHITNEY BARNES TELEPHONES TO THE RITZ.
Glancing up into the solemn face of an unusually good-looking young man who wore his silk hat at a jaunty angle and whose every detail of attire suggested that he was of that singularly blessed class who toil not neither do they spin, Miss Mamie McCorkle, public telephone operator in the tallest-but-one skyscraper below the Fulton street dead line, expected to be asked to look up some number in the telephone book and be generously rewarded for the trifling exertion. It wasn’t any wonder, then, that she broke the connections of two captains of industry and one get-rich-quick millionaire when this was what she got: