seemed to be a tremendous amount of fuss because she happened to be
a girl.

Martin spoke again before she had emerged from the thicket of inward
questions. She was only eighteen, after all.

"I mean, you can marry me if you like." he said, "and then no one
can take you back." He was amazed at his courage and hideously
afraid that she would laugh at him. He had never dared to say how
much he loved her.

She did laugh, but with a ring of so much pleasure and relief that
the blood flew to his head. "Why, Marty, what a brain! What
organization! Of course I'll marry you. Why ever didn't we think of
that last night?"

But before he could pull himself together a man-servant entered with
an air of extreme surprise. "I didn't know you'd come home, sir," he
said, "until I saw the suit-case." He saw Joan, and his eyes
rounded.

"I was just going to ring," said Martin. "We want some breakfast.
Will you see to it, please?" Alone again, Martin held out his hand
to Joan, in an odd, boyish way. And she took it, boyishly too.
"Thank you, Marty, dear," she said. "You've found the magic carpet.
My troubles are over; and oh, what a pretty little bomb I shall have
for Grandmamma! And now let's explore my house. If it's all like
this, I shall simply love it!" And away she darted into the hall.

"And now," said Joan, "being duly married,--and you certainly do