"Good heavens, man," she cried, "take them away with you when you go—all of them. Everything, do you hear? I give them all to you. Of what use could they be to me? They are yours. Take everything,—hats, boots, linen,—"
"Thank you, ma'am. That is very handsome of you. I wasn't quite sure that perhaps Mr. Braden wouldn't find some use for the overcoat. It is a very elegant coat. It cost—"
"Wade, you are either very stupid or very insolent," she interrupted coldly. "We need not discuss the matter any farther. How soon do you expect to leave?"
"I should say that a week would be sufficient notice, under the circumstances," said he, and chuckled, much to their amazement. "I may as well make a clean breast of it, ma'am. I am going to be married on the seventeenth of next month. That's just six weeks off and—"
"Married! You?"
"Ah, madam, I trust you will not forget that I have lived a very lonely and you might say profitless life," he said, rubbing his hands together, and allowing his smile to broaden into a pleased grin. "As you may know in the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love,—and so on. A man is as old as he feels. I can't say that I ever felt younger in my life than I have felt during the past month."
"I wish you joy and happiness, Wade," said Anne dumbly. She was staring at his smirking, seamed old face as if fascinated. "I hope she is a good woman and that you will find—"
"She is little more than a girl," said he, straightening his figure still a little more, remembering that he had just spoken of his own youthful feelings. There may have been something of the pride of conquest as well. "Just twenty-one last December."
Lutie laughed out loud. He bent his head quickly and they saw that his lips were compressed.
"I beg your pardon, Wade," cried George's wife. "It—it really isn't anything to laugh at, and I'm sorry."