"She feels just as I do about it," says he. "Come up. She will tell you so herself."
And she does.
"I think it's the silly veil to which I object most," says she. "As if anyone ever did see a blushing bride! Why, the ordeal has them half scared to death, poor things! And no wonder. Yes, I quite agree with Robert. Weddings should be actually happy affairs—not stiff, gloomy ceremonies cumbered with outworn conventions. I've seen women weep at weddings. If I should catch one doing that at mine, I should be tempted to box her ears. Really! So we have decided that our wedding must be a merry one. That is why, Torchy, we have sent for you."
"Eh?" says I, gawpin'.
"You are to be best man," says Mr. Robert, clappin' me on the back.
"Me?" I gasps. "Ah, say!"
"Your Miss Verona," adds Elsa, "is to be my only bridesmaid."
"Well, that helps," says I. "But how—where——"
"It doesn't matter," says Mr. Robert. "Anywhere in the State—or I can get a Connecticut or New Jersey license. It shall be wherever you decide."