“Well, close to one, once. Now about this wedding. I wish——”
“Show me how you write stories,” the girl went on. “I think it must be perfectly lovely to write things for the paper? Do you think I could?”
“I guess so,” replied Larry, in desperation. He did not know what to do, and did not wish to offend the girl, who was very pretty, and seemed much in earnest in her questions. But help came from an unexpected quarter.
“Why, Clarice!” exclaimed a woman’s voice, as she came into the room. “I have been looking everywhere for you. What are you doing?”
“I am giving the reporter from the Leader an account of the wedding,” replied Clarice, with a smile.
“How far have you gone with it?” asked her mother. “If you do as you usually do, you have asked more questions than you have answered.”
“I was only asking about a reporter’s life,” spoke the girl. “It’s perfectly lovely. They see murdered people——”
“Clarice, you must not talk so!” exclaimed her mother. “Now, you run upstairs, and I’ll tell the young man about the wedding.”
Pouting a little the girl went out, nodding and smiling at Larry. The bride’s mother then gave the young reporter a story of the ceremony.