"Pretty good for a somnambulist," he conceded when I had done.
"Knowlton," I said, trying my best to make my true feelings carry, "I don't know what I should have done without you today."
"I don't either," he grinned. "It was my toast at breakfast that gave you the strength for the ordeal."
He produced a packet of papers. "Now you are coming out of your trance nicely, I'll give you these," he went on. "This envelope, which is green, contains your railroad tickets; this blue one, your steamer tickets; the white one, the checks for your baggage. Get that?"
He opened my coat and put them in the inside pocket and buttoned me up again, like a child. "If you find your mind gone on the train, just tell the conductor to search you."
At the door of the room I had a final word with Mr. Claybourne. Then the three of us went downstairs. In a few minutes Helen appeared. She looked more beautiful in her tailor-made travelling dress than in her bridal array. My head swam again when I went to her. We were surrounded by a babel of voices, and Miss Hershey led in Mrs. Claybourne. Every one was going to the station to see us off. Leonidas was howling dismally outside from the centre of a large crate which was to be his prison as far as New York. On this one point Helen was adamant. She would not go to England without Leonidas.
The preliminary farewells began, and even Jane, the maid, joined the chorus of feminine weepers. The Claybournes, Helen, and I got into one carriage; Knowlton, with an assortment of bridesmaids, followed in another. More rice and confetti, not to speak of old shoes tied to the carriage by white ribbons. We were not to be spared a single torture. The crowd at the station were delighted with our arrival. Leonidas and his cage gave the final touch. Some merry wag, blast his eyes, had tied a large bow of white ribbon to Leonidas' collar. There was no time to remove it, for the New York train thundered in from the further West, and the ivory flashes of a Pullman porter took over our care. We left in a bedlam, Mr. Claybourne's face looking rather solemnly at us, Mrs. Claybourne, quite overcome, on Miss Hershey's shoulder, and Knowlton's grin frozen half way. Helen and I waved as long as they were in sight, then turned around in our seats and faced each other....
Two days later the Cunarder backed out from her dock and our voyage began. Helen and I stood on the top deck, where we could see the tugs turn the ship around. The fantastic skyline of Manhattan loomed over us.
"Lady Grey Eyes, I love you," I whispered, as our boat went slowly down stream. "Are you glad?"