“Very well, then. The first time you wouldn’t marry me at all unless you could have me Friday, and of course I wouldn’t take you Friday under those circumstances. Now you say you’re glad and willing to marry me any day in the week, and so I’ll choose Friday of my own accord. I’ll marry you to-morrow, Pitt: and”—here she darted a roguishly sibylline glance at the clouds—“I have a water-proof; have you an umbrella for Saturday?”
Pitt took her at her word, you may be sure, and married her the next day, but I wish you could have seen it rain on Saturday! There never was such a storm in Pleasant River. The road to the Edgewood station was a raging flood; but though the bride and groom were drenched to the skin they didn’t take cold—they were too happy. Love within is a beautiful counter-irritant.
Huldah didn’t mind waiting a little matter of nineteen years, so long as her maiden flag sank in a sea of triumph at the end; and it is but simple justice to an erring but attractive woman to remark that she never said “I told you so!” to her husband.
TWO ON A TOUR
LOG-BOOK OF
CHARLOTTE AMALIA CLIFFORD
S.S. Diana, January 21, 1918
On the way to the Virgin Islands