“Papa, papa!”
He paused, thinking it imagination, but he saw her coming to him in a swift-rolling carriage. At her side was Chalender with exultance in his smile.
The carriage whirled in at the open gate, and the moment the driver stopped it short, Chalender leaped out, helped Immy to alight, and ran with her to the steps.
And there the twain knelt in a laughing parody of homage, and Chalender—Chalender his arch enemy, his chief annoyance upon the earth—dared to mimic Immy’s word and exclaim:
“Papa!”
As RoBards’ eyes rolled in wonder, he caught sight of Patty at a window staring unseen. She vanished almost at once, as if she had fallen.
Before RoBards could frame a question, Immy was up and at him in a whirlwind. She had her arms about his neck and was crying:
“Papa dearest, Harry and I have just come across the border from Connecticut. We went over there and the funniest old justice of the peace you ever saw married us. And we’ve come home galloping to ask your blessing. And I’ve come to pack some of my things.”
The habit of indulgence answered for RoBards before his slow wrath could muster its forces. He stammered idiotically:
“Married! Well, what do you think of that? Well, well! This is a surprise but—well—bless you, anyway.”