She groped her way into the center of the room and clutched his arms.
"David," she said, laughing a little nervously, "here goes the last
gasp of my dear old Methodist fervor."

"Why, Carol--" he interrupted.

"Just a minute, honey. After this I am going to be settled and solemn
and when I feel perfectly glorious I'll just say, 'Very good, thank
you,' and--"

"But, Carol--"

"Yes, dear, just a second. This is my final gasp, my last explosion,
my dying outburst. Rah, rah, rah, David. Three cheers and a tiger.
Amen! Hallelujah! Hurrah! Down with the traitor, up with the stars!
Now it's all over. I am a Presbyterian."

David's burst of laughter was echoed on every side of the room and the
lights were switched on, and with a sickening weakness Carol faced the
young people of her husband's church.

"More Presbyterians, dear, a whole houseful of them. They wanted to
surprise you, but you have turned the tables on them. This is my wife,
Mrs. Duke."

Slowly Carol rallied. She smiled the irresistible smile.

"I am so glad to meet you," she said, softly, "I know we are going to
like each other. Aren't you glad you got here in time to see me become
Presbyterian? David, why didn't you warn me that surprise parties were