"What will she think of Mercedes?" I asked, as we rolled through the city, out toward the sunshine and open spaces.
"She'll like her," said Bill. "Mother's a judge, and she adopted Wright long ago."
"Those two wild children," I said, tolerantly.
The maddest cablegram had come to us just before we left. I was still convulsed by it:
Mercedes willing wedding in fall out of my head with happiness everything wonderful thank you a thousand times will see you very soon most marvelous girl in the world sends her love so do I.
"WRIGHT"
"I suppose they expect us to be surprised," I said. "Ostriches!"
"I always knew you were a matchmaker," said Bill, "you certainly staged the whole thing well."
"I had her out to amuse you, not Wright," said I, with partial truth.