“I propose three cheers for the town of Josephine,” went on Mr. Elkins, “and for the lady for whom it is named!”
They were real cheers—good hearty ones; followed by an address, in the name of the town, by a bright young man who pushed forward and with surprising volubility thanked President Elkins for his selection of the name, and closed with flowery compliments to the blushing Miss Trescott, whose identity Jim had disclosed by a bow. He was afterwards a thorn in our flesh in his practice as a personal-injury lawyer. At the time, however, we warmed to him, as under his leadership the dwellers in the tents and round about the waters of Mirror Lake all shook hands with Jim and Josie.
Cornish stood with a saturnine smile on his face, and glared at some of the more pointed hits of the young lawyer. Cecil Barr-Smith beamed radiant pleasure, as he saw the evident linking in this public way of Jim’s name and Josie’s. Antonia stood close to Cecil’s side, and chatted vivaciously to him—not with him; for her words seemed to have no correlation with his.
“Quite like the going away of a bridal party!” said she with exaggerated gayety, and with a little spitefulness, I thought. “Has any one any rice?”
“All aboard!” said Corcoran; and the joyful and triumphant party, with their outward intimacy and their inward warfare of passions and desires, rolled on toward “Mystery Number Two,” which was duly christened “Cornish,” and celebrated in champagne furnished by its godfather.
“Don’t you ever drink champagne?” said Cornish, as Josie declined to partake.
“Never,” said she.
“What, never?” he went on, Pinaforically.
“My God!” thought I, “the assurance of the man!” And the palm-encircled alcove at Auriccio’s, as it was wont so often to do, came across my vision, and shut out everything but the Psyche face in its ruddy halo, speeding by me into the street, and the vexed young man in the faultless attire slowly following.
Mystery Number Three was “Antonia,” a lovely little place in embryo; “Barslow” came next, followed by “Giddings” and “Tolliver.” We were tired of it when we reached “Hinckley,” platted on a farm owned by Antonia’s father, and where we ceased to perform the ceremony of unveiling. It was a memorable trip, ending with sunset and home. Captain Tolliver assisted General Lattimore to alight from the train, and they went arm in arm up to the old General’s home.