"Oh, hang the financial situation! Where does she live, Henry?" was Bliss's answer, from which Upton deduced that all was going well.
That his deductions were correct was speedily shown, for it was not many days before Mrs. Upton, with a radiant face, handed Upton a note from Walter asking her if she would not act as chaperon for a little sail on the Sound upon his sloop. He thought a small party of four, consisting of herself and Henry, Miss Meeker and himself, could have a jolly afternoon and evening of it, dining on board in true picnic fashion, and returning to earth in the moonlight.
"How do you like that, my lord?" she inquired, her eyes beaming with delight.
"Dreadful!" said Henry. "Got to the moonlight stage already—poor Bliss!"
"Poor Bliss indeed," retorted Mrs. Upton. "Blissful Bliss, you ought to call him. Shall we go?"
"Shall we go?" echoed Upton. "If I fell off the middle of Brooklyn Bridge, would I land in the water?"
"I don't know," laughed Mrs. Upton. "You might drop into the smoke-stack of a ferry-boat."
"Of course we'll go," said Upton. "I'd go yachting with my worst enemy."
"Very well. I'll accept," said Mrs. Upton, and she did. The sail was a great success, and everything went exactly as the skilful match-maker had wished. Bliss looked well in his yachting suit. The appointments of the yacht were perfect. The afternoon was fine, the supper entrancing, and the moonlight irresistible. Miss Meeker was duly impressed, and as for the doctor, as Upton put it, he was "going down for the third time."
"If you aren't serious in this match, my dear, throw him a rope," he pleaded, in his friend's behalf.