Maud and Tom made their way to the Garrison box. Julie, with a keen woman’s look, saw at once that Maud’s gown, jewelry, furs, were no longer imitations. Tom was evidently embarrassed and hung back. Floyd rather liked him; he was genuine; he didn’t disguise the fact that he was a rotter. He said, “I’m no good; take me as I am, or not at all.”
“What have you been doing all this time?”
“Oh! nothing much,” laughed Maud, “shopping, house hunting, getting married; we didn’t announce it, it wasn’t worth while.” Floyd grasped Tom’s hand.
“I couldn’t get her, any other way, so we called on the Judge—We’ve been married six weeks; so far it’s all right—I’m going to buy a house and put it in her name—If I don’t behave myself, she can kick me out.”
Maud was sitting in front with Julie, talking over joining the young matrons and giving a series of dinners.
Suddenly she said:
“Have you seen Martin Steele lately?”
“I’ve been ill a long time.”
“He’s here tonight.”
“Yes, I saw him standing at the back.”