"No," she drawled, in her usual giggle, "but it is embarrassing to leave here this morning to get rid of number one and come back this evening with number two." Townsend started, removing his arm from her waist. Putting it back, she pouted, "You are not angry, are you, dear?"
Indulgently, but not enthusiastically, he answered, "It is a little jarring to be referred to as number two."
"Oh, I didn't mean that!" she exclaimed, leaning coquettishly on his shoulder. "But I can't bear to have every one staring at us."
"But this isn't a secret marriage, Maggie," said the judge.
At this Margaret drew herself away from him, horror in her opened mouth and widening eyes. "Oh, don't say that!" she protested. "My name is Margaret," adding, sweetly, "I don't mind if they find out about it after we are gone, dear, but let's try to keep them from finding it out to-night."
"All right, my darling, just as you say," and he drew her to him again. Peters reappeared at the stairs.
"Mrs. Jones will be down in a minute," he announced, and was going to say more, but the sight of Margaret locked close in Lemuel Townsend's dignified arms permitted him no further expression than a prolonged and astonished "Oh!" which wrought a quick parting of the loving couple, while Margaret, blushing furiously, hastened to explain: "Judge Townsend is my husband, Mr. Peters. We were married this afternoon."
Peters had been having much of his own way since Mrs. Jones and Millie had retired from the actual management of the hotel, and his authority ran away with him at times, thrusting him into situations in which his assumption brought him quick rebuke. This was one of them. Obsequiously and with an easy laugh he extended a congratulatory hand to Townsend, while he remarked, "Quick work, eh, judge?"
Townsend stood back and withered Peters with a glance that did its full duty from head to foot.
Margaret, kind-hearted, and seeing Peters's embarrassment, hastened to be friendly. "We don't want you to say a word about it to anybody!"