"My dear, practical mystic, we are." He caught her round the waist and looked at Hadassah as he spoke. "You'll get her ready, won't you?"
She laughed. "Well, if you really mean it, I think we must all be up and doing."
"If!" Michael cried. "With this in my pocket, I should rather think I do mean it!" He brandished the special licence in the air. "Do you know what this means, Meg? It's your death-warrant. Are you resigned? Have you anything to confess? You've not been married to anyone else while I was away?"
Margaret shook her head. He had brought laughter back to her eyes. Just at that moment the ex-butler entered the room. As they all turned to look at him, he said:
"A person has called to see Miss Lampton."
"Who is it?" Margaret said. Her thoughts flew to her dressmaker, who was hurriedly making a light frock, bought ready-made, the proper length for her; in all other respects it fitted her.
"I don't know, miss. She has a box in her arms."
"Oh, I'll go," Margaret said. "I won't be long."
"Then, while you're gone, I'll make use of my time," Michael said as he rose to his feet. "I'll be back in ten minutes." He looked into Margaret's eyes. "Don't waste any time on dressmakers, Meg! Wear any old things,—you always look delightful."
"Catch me wasting time!" Margaret said. Her eyes assured him of her words. "Come upstairs for me in ten minutes—I'll be ready."