Mrs. Wayne, but that, when he came to her and began to twist her neck,
she would just say, "My dear man, don't be silly!" and he would stop.

In the meantime Burke was not so angry as he was affecting to be. Like
most leaders of men, he had a strong dramatic instinct, and he had just
led Mrs. Wayne to the climax of her just violence when his manner
suddenly completely changed, and he said with the utmost good temper:

"And what do you think of my get-up, Mrs. Wayne? It's a new suit I have
on, and a boutonniere." The change was so sudden that no one answered,
and he went on, "It's clothes almost fit for a wedding that I'm wearing."

Mrs. Wayne understood him in a flash. She sprang to her feet.

"Marty Burke," she cried, "you don't mean to say you've got those two
children married!"

"Not fifteen minutes ago, and I standing up with the groom." He smiled a
smile of the wildest, most piercing sweetness--a smile so free and
intense that it seemed impossible to connect it with anything but the
consciousness of a pure heart. Mrs. Farron had never seen such a smile.
"I thought I'd just drop around and give you the news," he said, and now
for the first time took off his hat, displaying his crisp, black hair and
round, pugnacious head. "Good morning, ladies." He bowed, and for an
instant his glance rested on Mrs. Farron with an admiration too frank to
be exactly offensive. He put his hat on his head, turned away, and made
his exit, whistling.

He left behind him one person at least who had thoroughly enjoyed his
triumph. To do her justice, however, Mrs. Farron was ashamed of her