A few days later, after a round of luncheons, dinners and dances until I was half dead, I had a free evening. The elopement had been set for Friday, and it was Wednesday. Mother and father were out, and I went downstairs for a book. I had got it and was just going out when I saw Henry's red head over the back of the leather chair by the fire.
I went over. He was not reading. He was just sitting, his long legs stretched out in front of him.
"Hello, Kit," he said calmly. "I knew this was an off night. Sit down."
I sat down, rather suspicious of his manner. Henry can't dissemble.
"About the other night," he said, "I was taken by surprise. Just forget it, Kit. Now, when are you going to pull this thing off?"
I told him, and where.
"Russell made any arrangements?"
"I haven't asked."
"Probably not. He'll expect to get out of the train and find a license and a preacher on the platform. I'd better be best man, and go down there a day before to fix things."
Well, it wasn't flattering to see him so eager to get me married. There had been a time when I thought—However—