“Mr. Skinner,” he said gently. “We crave your approbation for what we have done. We were married by the registrar of St. Dunstan’s at ten o’clock this morning, and your niece came on here direct by train, bringing her luggage and my own, which I thank God devoutly will always travel together in future. We love each other very, very much.”
There fell here upon the masculine vision the spectacle of two women entwined in each other’s arms, and of two beautiful heads, one raven-black, one glowing like light through clouded amber, bent tenderly together. The sound of little moans proceeded from this swaying, interlocked group, and then of kisses and of subdued ecstatic sobbing laughter.
Lord Drumpipes, staring vacantly from these women to his boyhood friend, gulped his sherry in an absent-minded way. David, in rapid whispers, outlined meanwhile the situation to his bewildered ear.
“Eh!” he called out at last. “It is the same lassie? The yellow-haired one? The one who smashed my moosie?”
“Shut up, you loon!” growled David fiercely, under his breath. “Is this the time to blab about such things? I kicked your your old cow into splinters, and I’ll serve the rest of the idiotic show the same way if you mention the word ‘moose.’ Chuck it, man! That’s a thing for the girls to tell each other a year hence, perhaps. Have some delicacy about you!” He turned to Mr. Skinner, who stood as one petrified, his gaze riveted upon the young women.
“I’ve been explaining to my friend, Lord Drumpipes,” David said, lifting his voice, “the romantic nature of my acquaintance with your niece, my wife. I think you have been told about it.”
Mr. Skinner shifted his glance to the speaker. “To some extent—to some extent,” he murmured weakly. “It has taken me greatly by surprise. I scarcely know——-”
David had advanced, and was holding out his hand, with a confident, masterful sort of smile.
“I suppose it’s all right,” the old gentleman said, sending confused, appealing glances toward his inattentive daughter. “Adele seems not to object—I take it for granted that——”
Adele lifted her head, and drew a protecting arm round Vestalia. “Hold up your chin,” she whispered, audibly. “They’re nothing to be frightened of. You know everybody except your cousin Archie, and he’s only to be feared by creatures who can’t shoot back.”