The next day Marion came to me overjoyed. 'It's all right, dear,' she announced. 'William wants to get married at once. Netta, you are wonderful—how did you do it? What did you say to him?'
'Never mind,' I said, trying to look enigmatical and rather enjoying Marion's respectful admiration of my wondrous powers, 'all's well that ends well … ask Elizabeth if it isn't,' I added as that worthy lurched in with the tea-tray.
'The wedding isn't going to be postponed after all, Elizabeth,' announced Marion gleefully.
'I knowed it wouldn't be, Miss Marryun, when I see a weddin' wreath in your cup. I tell you the Signs is always right.'
Marion shook her head. 'Not always. Didn't you once tell me that my future husband would cross water to meet me? Mr. Rawlings, now, has been here all the time.'
Elizabeth paused in the act of arranging the tea-table, and stood in a prophetic attitude with the teapot held aloft.
'Oo ses the Signs is wrong?' she demanded. 'Isn't Mr. Roarings an Irishman, an' was born in Dubling? Now I'd like to know 'ow any one can get from Ireland to London without crossin' water, anyway!'
