We turned together to the door, but there was a sound of hurrying feet, and Miss Bryant rushed before us, followed by a big bearded giant of a man.
"Forbear and eat no more till my necessities be served," she declaimed, advancing to the table. "Food has not passed my lips to-day; or—not much food."
"Cadge!" gasped Helen with a choking laugh, sinking again upon her chair.
Reid calmly extended a plate of salad to his betrothed, while Kitty groaned, scandalized:—
"You mustn't eat now! You mustn't! Where've you been? Look at the state you're in! Don't eat, Cadge; you must dress this minute!"
"Bridgeport," returned Miss Bryant, grinning benevolently on the wedding guests, her wet hair clinging about her face, her shirt waist dampened with the raindrops that trickled from her hatbrim. "Driving an antelope to a racing sulky. If I bear marks, y'ought to see the antelope; and the sulky! Seven column picture, Kitty; I've made a lay-out. You must get right at it—antelope kicking the atmosphere into small pieces—"
"Cadge," suggested Reid, mildly, "our train leaves at midnight."
"We'll make it; but this story must come out whether or not 'Mrs. Prosper K. Reid' does. Won't dress, but—say, just you show my wedding gown, Kitty; not for publication but as an evidence—more salad, Pros."
Kitty ran and brought a billowy mass of fleecy white stuff, and Cadge stood, devouring salad, over the dainty thing, gesticulating at it with her fork and explaining its beauties:—
"You can see for yourselves it's swell. Mrs. Edgar fitted me at the Star office, with furious mug-makers pounding on the door."