Mrs. Fosdick murmured to her spouse: "The old Justice of the Peace didn't give us any music at all," and received in reward one of his most luscious-eyed looks, and a whisper: "But he gave us each other."
"Now and then," she pouted.
"But where are the bride and groom?"
"Here they come—all ready," cried Ashton, and he beat time while some of the guests kazooed at Mendelssohn's and some Wagner's bridal melodies, and others just made a noise.
Ira Lathrop and Anne Gattle, looking very sheepish, crowded through the narrow corridor and stood shamefacedly blushing like two school children about to sing a duet.
The train jolted to a dead stop. The conductor called into the car: "Ogden! All out for Ogden!" and everybody stood watching and waiting.
Ira, seeing Mallory, edged close and whispered: "Stand by to catch the minister on the rebound."
But Mallory turned away. What use had he now for ministers? His plans were shattered ruins.
The porter came flying in with two large bowls of rice, and shouting, "Here comes the 'possum—er posson." Seeing Marjorie, he said: "Shall I perambulate Mista Snoozleums?"
She handed the porter her only friend and he hurried out, as a lean and professionally sad ascetic hurried in. He did not recognize his boyish enemy in the gray-haired, red-faced giant that greeted him, but he knew that voice and its gloating irony: