“Good news?” she asked, forgetting her beef-tea and turning towards him, radiant.
“That depends upon how you take it.”
“I’ll take it in the way to make it good, then. I’m not ready for anything unpleasant,” she said, with a vain attempt to keep her lips from quivering.
“Then I’ll tell you. Guess who is married. But you will never guess,” he replied with confident eagerness.
“Some one in Bensalem?”
“No.”
“Bensalem is all my world.”
“You forget somebody on the other side of the world.”
“Not Cousin Don,” in the most startled surprise.
“Cousin Don. It’s a stroke of genius, or something. He never did anything like other people. Just as he was on the point of starting for home, he decided to stay and marry an English girl he found out he was in love with; or found out she was in love with him; he seems rather surprised himself. They were married the day he expected to sail for home.”