“Now, Marc, listen to me,” Polly said. Her tone was severe. “I’ve never been really stern with you since our acquaintance. I’ve always given in and let you have the biggest piece of cake. Now I mean what I say. I’m not going back and leave you here, sick and alone. Besides, Mrs. Conrad changed her mind last night. She’s going to Athens with Mr. Hard.”
“There’s Mabel Penhallow—she’d look after me,” replied Scott, mildly.
“Well, she shan’t. Let her look after that fat thing she’s going to marry. No, I’m going to stay here until you’re well again, and by that time my reputation will be in shreds—perfect shreds.”
“Well, I think it will, too, but what can I do?”
“You can let me tell that minister to come right over here and marry us when he’s through with the others,” said Polly, firmly. Then, with tears in her eyes: “Oh, Marc, don’t you see I don’t like doing underhand things any more than you do, but I can’t go away and leave you like this? I know my people and I know what they’ll say. They’ll say I did the right thing.”
“Well, girlie, I don’t know—I’d rather like to see Hard and Mrs. Conrad married, myself. Don’t you think maybe you could get the Padre to do both jobs over here?”
Thus it was that a double wedding took place in the small room which the invalid occupied. Chula Vista, or at least those citizens who were allowed to witness the ceremony, were loud in their praises of the brides. Ed Merriam was particularly impressed and begged earnestly that it might be made a triple affair, but, as Mr. Penhallow justly observed, you can overdo even a good thing if you try hard enough. Ed was obliged to content himself with the rôle of spectator. Mr. Penhallow, himself, was a busy man. He not only acted as best man at both ceremonies, but he also had the gold on his nerves. It was removed immediately after the weddings—in the first spare moment that the best man had—to a near-by town which possessed banking facilities, a full account of its recovery being sent to Robert Street. This arrived in the same mail with a letter from Polly, and Bob celebrated his first sitting up by breaking the news to his parents.
“Tell you what, folks,” he said, “while it’s a bit of a blow to have our baby cut loose like this, there’s something to be said on the other side. Marc Scott’s a first-class fellow and he’ll make her a much better husband than that Henderson chap ever would.”
“But, Bob dear, what sort of a man is he?” Mrs. Street’s delicate face expressed alarm neatly blended with horror.
“That,” replied her husband, briefly, “is what I am going to find out. There’s a train going west in about two hours and if you wish me to carry your blessing to our wayward child I shall be happy to do so.”