“I remember.”
“Well, I’ll stick by that.”
She rose to her feet.
“You haven’t answered me yet,” he protested.
Her face flushed exquisitely. “There’s a church in Kitty Hawk,” she said. “And I believe a minister comes over from the mainland once a month. Madge says he is due—to-morrow.”
XII
They were married in the little Kitty Hawk church at noon the next day.
Before the hour of the wedding came, certain matters had been attended to. Letters had been written in time to catch the launch which would return with the minister from Kitty Hawk to the mainland. The clothing stock of the “Bazaar” had been materially reduced by the demands both Betty and Fessenden had made upon it. The Wisp had been loaded with everything in the way of food, water, and utensils, that could be needed for a fortnight’s cruise.
“Why bother with the sloop?” Danton had demanded. “There’s plenty of room on the West Wind. We can all go honeymooning together, eh, Madge? Over to Bermuda, if you like.”
To Fessenden’s infinite relief, Betty had declined this well-meant offer. “No, thank you,” she had said, blushing a little. “After to-night, I’ll go back to the dear little Wisp—where I’ll belong, you know. Bob White is going to take me down through the sounds, and then back through the Dismal Swamp, home.”