"Started!" William snorted. "Now—now, that's good. A man races all the way to the station and back, and they talk about getting him started." Suddenly he thrust his hands into his pockets and stood staring at the wall. "Well, if that don't beat anything I ever saw."
"What is the trouble?" the Judge asked.
"Why, I dated that telegram the fourth."
"You did!" Mrs. Elbridge cried. The Judge looked hard at his brother. "It won't make any difference," said Florence. "He will know that it was a mistake."
"He will undoubtedly know who sent it," the Judge added.
"I wonder why Mr. Bradley and Agnes stay in that dingy place," said Mrs. Elbridge, always anxious to change the talk from William's dates.
"The place may be dingy," replied the Judge, "but there are no cobwebs hanging from the rafters in the abode of love."
"Judge!" she said, giving him a smiling frown.
"To some eyes," remarked Florence, half musingly, "there may be cobwebs hanging from the rafters in love's abode, but to love they are strands of gold."
"Let us go out and watch for his coming," said Mrs. Elbridge, taking Florence by the arm. They went out, leaving William staring at the Judge.