Coppin, and held it; and Muriel, we regret to add, turned and bestowed
upon Albert a half-smile of tender understanding.

"I suppose," said Roland, "we couldn't get married on a hundred and
ten?"

"No," said Percy.

"No," said Frank.

"No," said Albert Potter.

They all spoke decidedly, but Albert the most decidedly of the three.

"Then," said Roland regretfully, "I'm afraid we must wait."

It seemed to be the general verdict that they must wait. Muriel said
she thought they must wait. Albert Potter, whose opinion no one had
asked, was quite certain that they must wait. Mrs. Coppin, between
sobs, moaned that it would be best to wait. Frank and Percy, morosely
devouring bread and jam, said they supposed they would have to wait.
And, to end a painful scene, Roland drifted silently from the room, and
went up-stairs to his own quarters.

There was a telegram on the mantel.

"Some fellows," he soliloquized happily, as he opened it, "wouldn't
have been able to manage a little thing like that. They would have
given themselves away. They would----"