"What in the world—" Mrs. Thatcher began.
"We're married!" Cosden announced, his face beaming with happiness and satisfaction.
"Yes,—that's right," Edith corroborated, seeing doubt in the eager faces peering at them, speechless with surprise. "I told you that if once I gave Connie half a chance he'd have me packed up and shipped before I knew it, and that's just what has happened!"
"Don't apologize," Marian laughed, kissing her. "I think you've done a very smart thing to elope like this."
"Good heavens, Connie, I never thought of that! An elopement for me would just be the last thing in the world! How can you call it that when there is no one to elope from but Ricky!"
"Whatever you call it, I've got you!" Cosden declared, tapping his pocket. "The parson gave me a perfectly good bill of sale, and it will take some trying to break this contract. Now don't you try!"
Thatcher was the only one who rose fully to the occasion, and as a result of his presence of mind the butler appeared with a bottle of Pommery from which he filled the accompanying glasses. After Thatcher proposed the toast to the happy couple, Huntington again raised his glass to Cosden.
"Here's to Edith, God bless her!" he exclaimed.
Cosden understood, and the spirit of mischief seized him.
"How about that other toast we drank that night, Monty?"