Chapter XXI
Virginia came in tired and worn-looking. Her clothes were soaked through from the storm and in her hand she carried a dripping umbrella. She smiled wearily as she greeted the others:
"Hello, Fanny! How's this for weather?" Holding out her umbrella to her brother-in-law she said: "Here, Jim, please take this."
While he went to put the gingham in the bathtub, Fanny helped to make the newcomer comfortable. With concern, she exclaimed:
"Poor darling—you're wet through. You'd better change everything."
Virginia threw off her raincoat and dropped, exhausted, into a seat.
"I'm too tired to do anything but sit down," she exclaimed wearily.
"Was it a hard day?" inquired her sister as she brought a pair of comfortable slippers to be exchanged for the wet shoes.
"Very," replied Virginia with a sigh of relief. "There are some days when everything goes wrong. This was one of them. People were cranky and exacting—there was a terrific rush. I scarcely had time to lunch and tonight the cars were so crowded that I had to stand all the way."
Jimmie, re-entering from the bedroom, caught the last few words. Anxious in furtherance of his plans to improve every opportunity of ingratiating himself in his sister-in-law's good graces he exclaimed apologetically:
"That's tough! Was the same fellow on the car?"
She nodded, while Fanny went to see how things were getting on in the kitchen.
"Yes," she said listlessly.
"And going downtown?"
"Yes."
"Did he speak to you?"
"Of course not!" she exclaimed indignantly.
"Well, if he does or if he gets fresh at all," said her brother-in-law with a fierce gesture, "you tell me and I'll punch his head!"
"He won't," she smiled.
"He'd better not."
At that moment Fanny re-entered from the kitchen. Cheerfully she exclaimed:
"Dinner's all ready to put on, but I'll get you a cup of tea first!" Pointing to the wet rubbers, she made a significant gesture to her husband. "Jimmie!"
Docilely he picked up the rubbers and proceeded as before in the direction of the bathroom. Virginia looked at her sister gratefully.
"You're very good to me."
"Don't be silly!" exclaimed Fanny, as she busied Herself setting the table.
Virginia smiled.
"You're the best sister in the world!" she murmured.
"No, I'm not, you are!" Cheerily, as her husband reappeared, she added:
"Now you sit still and talk to Jim while I get the tea ready."
She went out and the clerk carelessly took a chair. This was his opportunity. He could hardly hope for a better one. After a brief pause he said sympathetically:
"You're not looking well, Virginia. These last three months have told on you."
The young woman nodded. With a weary sigh she replied:
"Yes—I know it."
Thus encouraged, he continued:
"I guess you don't like it any better than we do."
"Like it!" she exclaimed. "Like working under tremendous pressure from morning till night in a public hotel corridor at the beck and call of the first comer, exposed to all kinds of insult and indignity? Like to have two dollars a week pocket money out of which I must pay my carfare and buy whatever I need? Like to come home every night so tired I can scarcely walk and with my head aching till I can hardly see? Like it! Like it, indeed!"
Quietly he replied:
"Then why don't you quit It? Why don't you go back to your husband?"
Virginia started. In spite of herself, her face changed color. Abruptly she said:
"I've asked you not to—"
"I know you have, but tonight I'm going to talk sense to you if I never do it again."
She held out a hand in protest.
"Jimmie—I—"
"Yes, I am," he interrupted. "I hate to see you going on like this. You've been away from Stafford for less than three months and, on the level, you look five years older. Why don't you go back to him?"
"I've told you why—it's a matter of principle. You wouldn't have me give up my principles, would you?"
He shrugged his shoulders as he replied dryly:
"I don't know about yours, but I can tell you this about mine—if hanging on to 'em meant hard work, tired bones and an empty pocket while giving 'em up meant a fine house, a bully time and all the money I could spend, then I'd kiss my principles good-bye and pass 'em up without a quiver! That's common sense."
She turned her head away.
"We don't see things the same way," she said quietly.
He rose from the chair and began to pace the floor in silence. Then, turning on her suddenly he said:
"I never understood why you quit him anyway. Tell me, did he punch you?"
"Certainly not!" she exclaimed indignantly.
"Was he mixed up with another woman?"
"Another woman! Robert? The idea!!"
"Well, if it wasn't one of them, in heaven's name what was it?"
"You wouldn't understand," she replied simply.
He stopped short in front of her and folded his arms. With as severe an air as he could muster he said sternly:
"Perhaps not, but here's something I can understand. Why did I quit my job? Because of you. Who has brought us down to this? You! Who makes Fanny work harder than any hired girl in the city? You! Who has ruined my career? You! You and your selfishness!"
Taken aback by the suddenness of his denunciation, Virginia stared at him in surprise, as if not comprehending.
"My selfishness?" she stammered.
"Just that!" he sneered. With pretended indignation he went on: "And the things you were going to do for little Virgie! She was going to have a governess; she was going to learn music and painting when she grew up; she was going to have a horse. A horse! Ha! ha! The only horse she'll ever have will be a clothes-horse!!"
Hurt in her most sensitive nature, Virginia listened to his words, each one of which fell on her with the weight of a blow.
"Please, Jimmie, please!" she cried.
But he had no pity; he was ready to inflict any suffering so long as it did not hurt himself and it accomplished his object.
"Yes," he went on, "and she'll have to do the same as Fanny does, break her back washing the things to put over it! And why? Because you think more of your 'principles' than you do of your relations. Because you think only of yourself. Because you're selfish. That's why!"
Almost in tears, Virginia put out her hand, pleading to him to desist.
"Stop, please!" she cried. "Don't you see how nervous and tired I am?"
At that instant Fanny re-entered with the tea things, in time to hear her sister's cry of distress. Turning indignantly to her husband, she said:
"You behave yourself! What have you been saying to her, anyway?"
He shrugged his shoulders as he replied carelessly:
"I've been telling her things for her own good." Almost viciously he added: "And I'm going to keep on telling her."
Virginia rose, her face flushed. With some spirit she cried:
"No—you're not!"
"Who's going to stop me?" he demanded.
"I am," she said firmly. "I'm doing what I think is right and you're not going to bully me into doing what I think is wrong. If you ever mention my going back to my husband again, I'll—I'll—"
"I suppose you'll leave us as well?" he said sarcastically.
Fanny, meantime, was making frantic signs to her husband to desist. Angrily she exclaimed:
"Jimmie—will you stop?"
She was about to put her hand over her husband's mouth to silence him when Virginia interfered. In a resigned tone, she said weakly:
"Let him talk. No, I couldn't leave you. I've got to have some one to love. And you know I love you, don't you?"
"I should say so," exclaimed Fanny, embracing her.
Taking her sister's hand Virginia turned towards her brother-in-law. The look of anger and defiance had died out of her face. In its place was a peaceful expression of patient resignation. Gently she said:
"And I love the baby—dearly! Yes, and you as well, Jimmie! Oh, you don't know how hard this has been for me! You see, I've not only had my own sorrows and troubles—and they've been quite enough for any woman—"
Fanny tenderly embraced her sister. Placing a cup of tea in front of her she said soothingly:
"Never mind, dearie—everything will come out all right."
Virginia shook her head. Mournfully she said:
"But I've had yours as well—to know Jimmie lost his position because of me. To have you come down in the world like this—because of me; to know Jimmie is just where he started! To see you—breaking your back—at the washing—"
Standing over her, Fanny stroked her hair, trying to reassure her. Cheerily she said:
"Don't you worry about me. I'm all right."
"It's been dreadfully hard," went on Virginia tearfully. "At times I've felt that I just couldn't bear it—that I should—have—to go back, because, after all, I'm only human! And I may have to go back yet—I may—" She stopped abruptly and threw back her head. With spirit she exclaimed: "No, I won't go back. I won't!" Then, her tone changing again, she said pleadingly: "But please don't talk about it any more. I'm so tired!"
She sank listlessly into a chair at the table. Jimmie, judging the moment favorable to renew the attack, opened his mouth as if to speak, but before he could utter a word Fanny silenced him.
"Oh, shut up!" she exclaimed, more forcibly than elegantly.
"I didn't say anything," he protested.
"No, but you were going to!" she retorted. Turning to Virginia and pushing the tea-cup before her, she said coaxingly:
"Take your tea, dear, before it gets cold."
Jimmie was repulsed, but not beaten. The prize was too important to permit of his accepting defeat so easily. Rising from his seat, he said in a more conciliatory tone:
"I was only going to say—suppose he was to send for her—or come for her?"
Virginia looked up with an expression of mingled surprise and alarm. Almost anxiously she exclaimed:
"Robert—come for me! There isn't the slightest chance in the world."
The clerk grinned knowingly. With the self-important air of a man who enjoys the confidence of others, he said significantly:
"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you."
"Why what do you know about it?" demanded Fanny in pretended surprise.
"He's crazy in love with her—that's what I know," he said.
Virginia shook her head despondently.
"Not enough to come for me," she said. "He said he would never do it—and he never will. That's the kind of man he is."
"Per—perhaps" suggested Fanny, "just perhaps—he might."
"No," murmured Virginia, "you don't know him as well as I. Once he makes up his mind, no one can induce him to change it."
"But if he should," persisted Jimmie craftily, taking a seat near her and adopting a cordial, sympathetic tone.
"He won't," replied Virginia sadly. "We'll have to go along just as we are! And we might be much worse off, don't forget that. Even as it is, we're getting twenty dollars a week between us. I'm getting seven and Jimmie's getting thirteen—"
"I was getting thirteen," interrupted Jimmie ruefully.
Virginia looked at him.
"They've raised you?" she asked quickly.
"No. They've fired me."
"Discharged?"
"Yes."
"Do you mean to say you have lost your job?"
"Of course I have. How could you expect me to keep it? Do you think I could work under a man getting thirty dollars a week—me, who used to get a hundred and fifty?"
"Fired!" echoed Fanny, turning pale. "Why—what's the matter?"
Jimmie assumed an injured air. With nonchalance he explained:
"Oh, I could see that lots of things were wrong with the system. When I went to give the manager of the department the benefit of my advice and wide experience, instead of taking it and being thankful for it, he fired me—fired me cold. The bonehead!"
Virginia stared at him in dismay.
"But what are we going to do now?" she cried.
Fanny had collapsed on to a chair, the picture of utter discouragement. Weakly she repeated after her sister:
"Yes, what are we going to do now?"
"Don't worry," smiled the young man confidently. "Everything's going to be all right."
"But if it shouldn't?" argued his wife.
"It will," he retorted. With a significant glance towards his sister-in-law, he added: "You know about my new idea!"
Fanny gave a snort of scornful incredulity.
"Oh, you and your ideas!"
He shrugged his shoulders contemptuously. What was the good of arguing with a bunch of women? That was just how his ideas had always been laughed at, and that was why he had never been able to do anything with them. Angrily he exclaimed:
"I know what you think about 'em. Gee, but ain't you women the comforting lot!"
With this parting shot he turned on his heel and disappeared into the kitchen. Virginia, afraid that she was the cause of this little domestic storm, said apologetically:
"I'm sorry you quarrelled. Don't blame him too much, though. Things are rather hard for him."
"For him?" echoed Fanny in surprise. "What about you?"
"Oh, I'll manage," replied her sister quietly.
"He had no right to lose that job," said Fanny angrily.
"He'll soon find another," said Virginia encouragingly. "Till he does we'll get along some way. We've shared the good times together and we'll take the hard ones the same way."
"My, but you are a thoroughbred!" exclaimed her sister admiringly. "If any girl ever deserved to be happy, you're the one."
"The same to you and many of them," laughed Virginia.
At that moment the front doorbell rang. Fanny half rose to go and open, but sat down again.
"Oh, it's only the postman. Jimmie will go."
Taking both her sister's hands in hers and bending over, Fanny embraced her sister affectionately. Soothingly she said:
"Things ought to turn for you pretty soon, dear. I hope that they will. How I hope they do!"
As she spoke the front doorbell rang again, this time more loudly. Fanny started to her feet.
"I thought Jimmie was there. He must have gone out."
"I wonder who it is?" murmured Virginia.
"I'll go and see," said Fanny. "I hope it isn't company. Our next door neighbors have been threatening to call for some time."
In no humor to be bothered by visitors, Virginia rose hastily.
"I don't want to see anyone," she said. "I'll go and lie down."
As her sister went toward the door, Virginia made a quick escape into the bedroom.
Chapter XXII
When the telephone message had come, telling him that his wife wished to see him, Stafford had been instantly raised from the depths of gloomy despondency, to dizzy heights of hope and joy. A mere sound wave vibrating along a copper wire had made him the happiest and most amazed man in New York.
He had come home particularly out of sorts that evening and instead of dining at his club as usual, had told Oku to prepare a meal. Since Virginia's departure he had seldom had the courage to dine at home. The large dining room with the big table set for himself alone only served to remind him the more keenly of his loss. Especially empty and cheerless they looked that day and his mind was obsessed by thoughts of the absent one when suddenly the loud ringing of the telephone bell had aroused his reveries. He picked up the receiver thinking it was Hadley calling him or possibly someone in his office, when to his amazement he heard the voice of Jimmie Gillie.
A thrill ran through him as he listened. At last she had sent for him. His life was not to be irretrievably blasted, after all. Virginia was ready to forgive him and to come home again. He could scarcely believe his ears and in his joy he was ready to embrace the polished surface of the telephone. A reconciliation was possible without the sacrifice of his self-respect. He did not stop to analyze her motives or to question the authenticity of the summons. It was enough that her sister's husband said she wanted to see him. Then, suddenly, an idea occurred to him, which sent the blood from his face. He felt hot and cold in turns. Suppose she were ill, dying and they had sent for him because she was on her death-bed. He would not delay a moment.
Touching a few electric bells, he set Oku and other servants running with hurry orders that galvanized new life into the sleepy household, and half an hour later he was in his motor car, speeding in the direction of Harlem.
At the first sound of the bell, instinct had told Fanny who it was. She had delayed answering in order not to unduly alarm Virginia, and for a few moments she was at a loss what to do. Jimmie had hastily but discreetly disappeared, preferring to let his wife now play her role in the little comedy intended to bring Robert and Virginia together, but it was by no means an easy part to play and it was only when she knew that the millionaire was standing outside waiting for admittance that she quite realized how difficult was her task. There was no telling how the plan would work. A lie had been told, even if it was a lie in a good cause. If Stafford found out that he had been imposed upon, it might make matters worse, and as to Virginia she would certainly never forgive them.
It was not, therefore, without misgivings that Fanny opened the door and with a cordial smile on her anxious face bade Robert Stafford welcome.
He greeted his sister-in-law in his usual hearty manner, as if nothing had occurred to interrupt their intimacy and friendship. But it was easy to see that his thoughts were on one person only. Directly he came in, his eyes wandered round the apartment in search of her and he seemed to be listening intently as if for the sound of her voice. Standing still and questioning Fanny with an anxious look he asked in a low tone:
"Where is she?"
"Gone to her room, probably."
"You're sure she's not ill?" he demanded anxiously.
"Quite sure," smiled Fanny.
"That's the truth, is it?"
"Of course it is. She—she's a little tired, that's all."
He gave a deep sigh of relief and taking off his greatcoat, threw it together with his chauffeur's cap on the sofa.
"Thank God it's only that!" he exclaimed. "Jimmie said there was nothing the matter with her, but all the time I was coming up here I was thinking that perhaps suddenly she—" Pausing abruptly he said: "Tell her, please."
Without a word or attempting to enter into any explanations which, under cross-examination, might become embarrassing, Fanny went to Virginia's room and knocked at the door.
"It's someone to see you, Virgie!" she called out.
"To see me?" echoed Virginia in a surprised tone.
"Yes."
"Very well, I'll be there in just a minute."
Approaching her big brother-in-law Fanny gently laid her hand on his arm. There was nothing to be said. Each understood the other.
"Be very kind to her," she said pleadingly.
"Don't worry," he smiled.
"She's had a hard time."
"So have I," he replied with some emotion.
Fanny turned away and without another word left the room. For a few moments that seemed like years, Stafford remained alone, his eyes fixed on the door through which would presently pass the one woman in the whole world. It seemed like an age before she appeared. Would she never come? Then, all at once, the door opened and Virginia appeared on the threshold. On seeing who the visitor was, she stood like one spellbound. The blood went from her cheeks, leaving her deathly pale. She made a step forward, but stumbled and nearly fell. He darted forward and caught her in his strong arms.
"Darling!" he whispered.
Her head rested on his shoulder as it had done that first time the day at his apartment on Riverside Drive when he asked her to be his wife. Her pale, weary face was turned upwards, her tired eyes looking wonderingly into his. Her lips were within his reach, but he resisted the temptation. It was enough to feel that once more she was safe within his arms. Slowly she murmured:
"Robert! You did come! You did!"
"Of course I did," he said soothingly, as he stroked her hair caressingly.
"I'm so happy, dear," she murmured.
"You're not a bit happier than I am," he said, trying to keep back the tears that were fast filling his own eyes.
"And you came for me!"
"Of course, dear. Did you think I wouldn't?"
"Yes, because I thought I knew you and understood you. But I didn't. I knew you were fine and big, but you are finer and bigger than ever I imagined and I adore you for it! Oh, my darling, you came for me!"
He listened, bewildered, not understanding. Gently he said:
"But, dear—I—don't—"
She motioned him to a seat.
"Sit down, sweetheart, and let me sit on your knee, just as I used to."
"Yes, darling—just as we used to."
He took off his coat, threw it on the sofa and sat on a chair in front of the table. Virginia, with a cry of delight, jumped on his knee and threw her arm around his neck.
"Let me snuggle up to you in the way I love," she cried. "Hold me close—very, very close—and don't say a word—not even one."
Too happy to ask questions, he held her tight in his arms. In a low voice she murmured:
"I'm so tired, dear. I'm so tired—"
Fondly, tenderly, he caressed her.
"My poor little girl! Come, dear, the machine is outside. We'll go home at once."
"Not yet—please—I'm too happy. And it's you. It's really, really you."
"It really is," he smiled.
"Yes," she went on, "I've hoped and longed and prayed that you would come for me, but I didn't think you would. I imagined that your pride wouldn't let you."
"My pride?" he echoed, perplexed.
"Yes. You said you wouldn't come unless I sent for you."
Stafford started and stared fixedly at her.
"Virginia!" he exclaimed.
He was about to demand explanations when she interrupted him.
"I'm not reproaching you, dear. I mention it because it makes your coming all the bigger and finer!" Rising she added; "I'm the happiest girl in all the world. You came for me. Nothing else matters—"
Stafford listened to her in amazement. It was very clear. She had not sent for him after all. There had been some misunderstanding. Yet what of it? He had found her, he had clasped her once more to his breast. That was all he cared about. Not for anything in the world would he lose her again. He said nothing, gazing fondly into her dear tired face as she went on:
"If you hadn't come, I should probably have had to come to you! And that would have robbed me of everything I've been fighting for. But now I shall know that I didn't have to do what I knew to be wrong, and it makes me so happy, dear! So happy! So very, very happy!"
Sobbing she fell on her knees beside him and covered her face with her hands. For a moment or so he made no answer, but continued to caress her in silence. Then, slowly, he said:
"Of course I came for you! If I had known all that it meant to you I should have come long ago—"
She looked up at him eagerly.
"Then you did miss me?"
He nodded.
"I can't tell you how lonely I was. You had Fanny and Jimmie and the baby, but I had no one. As I sat alone in the house—the bigness of which seemed to make it all the lonelier—I thought of you, and your goodness, and sweetness and there I fought things out—I fought them out, and now I can make you any promise that you ask."
"But I don't ask any," she smiled.
"I give it to you just the same. I shall never, forgive myself either for letting you go. But I'll make it all up to you now. Ask for anything you please and you shall have it—to-morrow we'll go to Tiffany's and—"
Quickly she put her hand over his mouth.
"Don't dear, don't!" she cried. "I don't want you to buy things for me—I just want you to love me, dear! To love me! Love me! Love me!"
He smiled as he clasped her closer."
"No matter how hard I tried I couldn't help loving you."
"That's all I want," she murmured.
Her face was turned upwards and he bent down and kissed her. They were still in each others' embrace when the door opened slowly and Jimmie cautiously put his head in. He grinned when he saw the good results that had come of his work.
"May I come in?" he asked comically.
"Yes and go out again—that way," laughed Stafford good-humoredly. Pointing to the front door he added: "Tell Oku to bring the things out of the machine."
"You're on," grinned the clerk.
"And keep your mouth shut," said Stafford in a low tone.
"Tight as a clam!" grinned Jimmie.
As the millionaire turned to Virginia the young man again interrupted them.
"There's just one thing more," he said.
"What?"
"When do I go back to work?"
"Tomorrow," laughed Stafford.
"What salary?"
"What salary were you getting?"
"Well—one hundred and fifty a week."
"You were," laughed his employer, "for about fifteen minutes! Well—one hundred and fifty goes."
Jimmie nodded with satisfaction and went towards the door. Before he reached it he again turned round:
"And do we get the auto?"
"You do," laughed Stafford.
"Fine!" grinned Jimmie.
He disappeared and Stafford turned to Virginia.
"He's still the same old Jimmie!"
"And you're still the same generous Robert!"
He smiled indulgently at her as he said:
"I shall never miss what Jimmie gets."
"And it means so much to them," murmured Virginia.
"I'm glad it does. I'm glad I can make them happy for your—"
Before he could complete the sentence, Jimmie reappeared.
"Oku's coming," he grinned.
"You didn't get wet?" laughed Virginia.
"Not while I have my voice. I stood at the door and shouted to him. Here he is now."
The door was pushed open and the Japanese butler entered carrying a fur coat which he gave to his master. The millionaire turned to him.
"Oku, Mrs. Stafford has finished her visit to her sister and is coming home."
"How are you, Oku?" smiled Virginia.
The butler made a low salaam.
"I am big obliged. Anything else, sir?"
"Tell the chauffeur we're coming right out."
"Anything else?"
"No."
"Then excuse, please! Excuse! Oh, I am big obliged."
The butler went out and Stafford hurriedly held up his wife's coat.
"Here it is," he smiled.
At that instant Fanny opened the door and cautiously peeped in. Jimmie, seeing her, called out:
"Come in. It's all right."
She entered, looking timidly at her brother-in-law. Apprehensively, she said to Virginia:
"Is it?"
Going up to her sister, Virginia threw her arms around her neck.
"Yes—and I'm so happy!"
"So am I," laughed Fanny almost hysterically. "One of Jimmie's ideas has turned out right at last."
"One of his ideas?" echoed Virginia puzzled.
"Yes—about you and Robert," said Fanny, ignoring her husband's dumb signals to keep silent.
"Shut up!" he whispered fiercely.
"Didn't she know?" demanded Fanny.
The clerk made a gesture of disgust.
"Know what?" asked Virginia in surprise.
"Why—why—"
"What didn't I know?" insisted Virginia. "What is it about you and me—" She looked to her husband for an explanation, but he was silent. Anxiously she said: "Robert, tell me! Tell me!"
Stafford went up to her. Tenderly he replied:
"I will. It probably would have come up some time and perhaps it's best that it has come up now. Listen, dear!"
"Yes?"
"Don't you think it would be best to start afresh without there being even a chance for a misunderstanding between us—start on a basis of absolute truth?"
"Certainly! Aren't we starting that way?"
Stafford shook his head as he replied gravely:
"No, dear."
Startled, she recoiled and looked at him in dismay.
"Robert!" she exclaimed.
"There's nothing to be alarmed about," he went on soothingly. "Everything is all right."
"Tell me," she insisted firmly.
"Well, dear, now please, please don't be worried about it—when I came I thought you had sent for me."
She looked at him as if bewildered. Unable to comprehend she cried wildly:
"You thought I—Then everything is wrong! Everything!"
"No, dear," he replied firmly, "everything is right. You were fighting for a principle. Have you surrendered it?"
"No," she stammered, bewildered.
"You asked for a promise. I gave it and now I repeat it, so that is settled, isn't it?"
"Yes," she faltered.
"You said you wouldn't send for me and you haven't. Have you?"
"No."
"Then don't you see, dear, all along the line you won the victory?"
Jimmie, no longer able to contain himself, gave vent to a loud chuckle. Delighted at this successful outcome of his scheming, he cried gleefully:
"It's more than a victory! It's a landslide!"
Virginia remained silent. She was trying to understand. It was all a mystery. Yet why let it trouble her further? All she knew was that her husband had come for her and that her days of suffering were at an end. What mattered whose the victory so long as her tears were dried and they were reunited? Looking gratefully up at her husband she said gravely:
"You thought the victory was yours, but when you found me claiming it and realized what it meant to me, you hand it to me without a word. That was a big thing to do!"
"What does anything matter?" he said eagerly. "I love you, you love me and we are together again. That's everything, isn't it?"
"Yes, dear, that's everything," she answered, looking up at him fondly and proudly. "We can go."
"Let's hurry then," he said quickly, as if still afraid that his new-found bride might change her mind.
"Quick, Jimmie—get Virginia's rubbers!" cried Fanny.
"Sure," he said, disappearing on the run.
Stafford handed the automobile veil to his sister-in-law.
"You can fix this better than I," he smiled.
While Fanny was adjusting the veil, Jimmie re-entered with the rubbers and put them on.
Stafford picked up the fur coat.
"Now for the coat," he said. Putting his hand in his waistcoat pocket, he added with a significant smile:
"By the way, I've something else for you. It's from Tiffany's."
Virginia made a gesture of protest.
"Oh, Robert, didn't I tell you that—"
"Wait! Wait!" he laughed. "You don't know what it is!"
Taking from his pocket the wedding ring which three months before she had returned to him, he held it up and solemnly replaced it on her finger.
"With eternal love," he said gravely.
Taking her gently in his arms, he kissed her.
THE END