it in Billy's living-room at noon, with nothing
but the sun for light. There was no maid of honor,
no bridesmaids, no wedding cake, no wedding
veil, no presents (except from the family, and from
that ridiculous Chinese cook of brother William's,
Ding Dong, or whatever his name is. He tore in
just before the wedding ceremony, and insisted
upon seeing Billy to give her a wretched little
green stone idol, which he declared would bring
her `heap plenty velly good luckee' if she
received it before she `got married.' I wouldn't
have the hideous, grinning thing around, but
William says it's real jade, and very valuable, and
of course Billy was crazy over it--or pretended
to be). There was no trousseau, either, and no
reception. There was no anything but the bridegroom;
and when I tell you that Billy actually
declared that was all she wanted, you will understand
how absurdly in love she is--in spite of all
those weeks and weeks of broken engagement
when I, at least, supposed she had come to her
senses, until I got that crazy note from Bertram
a week ago saying they were to be married today.

``I can't say that I've got any really
satisfactory explanation of the matter. Everything has
been in such a hubbub, and those two ridiculous
children have been so afraid they wouldn't be
together every minute possible, that any really
rational conversation with either of them was out