yet. I'll be careful when I get installed. I am really a Methodist
yet, and Methodists are expected to shout and be enthusiastic. When we
move into our manse, and the honeymoon is ended, I'll just say, 'I am
very fond of you, Mr. Duke.'" The voice lengthened into prim and prosy
solemnity.

"But our honeymoon isn't to end. Didn't we promise that it should last
forever?"

"Of course it will." She dimpled up at him, snuggling herself in the
arm that still encircled her shoulders. "Of course it will." She
balanced her racquet on the top of his head as he bent adoringly over
her. "Of course it will,--unless your grim old Presbyterians manse all
the life out of me."

"If it ever begins, tell me," he begged, "and we'll join the Salvation
Army. There's life enough even for you."

"I beat you," she teased, irrelevantly. "I am surprised,--a great big
man like you."

"And to-morrow we'll be in St. Louis."

"Yes," she assented, weakening swiftly. "And the mansers will have me
in their deadly clutch."

"The only manser who will clutch you is myself." He drew her closer in
his arm as he spoke. "And you like it."

"Yes, I love it. And I like the mansers already. I hope they like me.