Quoth Dorcas: “I’m going to marry Ricky, mother. If you consent all right,—if you don’t, I’ll elope.”
And the Feudists, though incensed to the point of exasperation, had a certain secret feeling of satisfaction that the wedding would add fuel to the flames of their somewhat smoldering fires of wrath.
“Bless ’em,” said Bates, as the honeymoon began, “they ought to be grateful to us for giving them something new to fight about.”
“They are,” said Dorcas.
THE END
By CAROLYN WELLS
In the Onyx Lobby
The Man Who Fell Through the Earth
The Room with the Tassels