A Fool and His Money

by George Barr McCutcheon

I gulped. "I pray to heaven that you may be happy, Aline,—happier than any one else in the world."

She lowered her head suddenly, and I was made more miserable than before by hearing a quick, half-suppressed sob. Then she withdrew her cold little hand and turned away to follow Colingraft who had called out to her.

I saw them board the train. In my heart there was the memory of a dozen kisses I had bestowed in repentant horror upon the half-asleep Rosemary, who, God bless her little soul, cried bitterly on being torn away from my embrace.

"Well," said Billy Smith, taking me by the arm a few minutes later, "let's have a bite to eat and a cold bottle before we go to bed, old chap. I hope to heaven she gets through all right. Damme, I am strong for her, aren't you?"

"I am," said I, with conviction, coming out of a daze.

He led me off to a cafe where he seemed to be more or less at home, and where it was bright and gay for him but gloomier than the grave to me.

* * * * * * *

I drove the car home the next day. When we got down at the garage, Britton shivered and drew a prodigious breath. It was as if he had not breathed for hours. We had gone the distance in little more than half the time taken on the trip down.

"My word, sir," was all he said, but there was a significant tremor in his voice. It smacked of pride.

Mrs. Titus placidly inquired how we had got along, and appeared quite relieved when I told her we had caught the train at K—-. Jasper, Jr., revealed a genuine interest in the enterprise, but spoiled it all by saying that Aline, now prematurely safe, was most likely to leap out of the frying-pan into the fire by marrying some blithering foreigner and having the whole beastly business to do over again.