“I came, my child, to make sure you will name a certain date, that will be to me, the most momentous in American history. I must get that settled before I go to work in earnest to help win the war! And you said you couldn’t do it over the telephone.”
“This way is nicer,” and Patty nestled against his shoulder.
“For bare-faced love-makers, you two are pretty outspoken,” commented Bumble, smiling at them.
“’Scuse!” said Patty, without moving. “We wouldn’t under ordinary conditions, but realise, please, that our love-making has to be done when we can get a chance,—which is awful seldom. If you don’t want to play audience,—there is another course open to you.”
“No, thank you, I won’t run away!” and Bumble settled down to stay. “I want to hear all the plans and arrangements,—and oh, Patty, when is the day to be?”
“I’m cornered, I see, and I suppose I may as well decide now as any time. Let’s say June—about the middle of June. How’s that, Little Billee?”
“Next best to May, if you can’t be ready for May. How about the first of June?”
“No, ’long about the middle or latter part I’ve a heap to do. I can’t get married without a lot of embroidered linen things——”
“Oh, have a shower!” cried Bumble.
“Nonsense! I don’t want a shower! I mean really lovely things,—all hand-embroidered,—oh, Little Billee, shall we live in a house?”