gettin' married. I know I
should laugh if it was anybody else."

But Galusha stoutly maintained there was nothing ridiculous about it. It
was wonderful, that was all.

"Besides," he declared, "we are not old; we are just beginning to be
young, you and I. Personally, I feel as if I could jump over a bush and
annihilate a--ah--June bug, as Luce did that night when we went out to
see the moon."

Luce himself was at the door waiting to be let in. He regarded the pair
with the air of condescending boredom which the feline race assumes when
confronted with the idiosyncrasies of poor humanity. Possibly he was
reflecting that, at least, he knew enough to go in when it rained.
Martha opened the door, but Galusha paused for a moment on the
threshold.

"Do you know," he said, "that, except--ah--occasionally, in wet weather,
it scarcely ever rains in Egypt?"

CHAPTER XXIV

(A letter from Mrs. Galusha Bangs to Miss Lulie Hallett.)

Shepheard's Hotel, Cairo, Egypt, February tenth.

MY DEAR LULIE:

Well, as you can see by this hotel letter paper, here we are, actually
here. Of course we are only a little way toward where we are going, but
this is Egypt, and I am beginning to believe it. Of course, I can't yet
quite believe it is really truly me that is doing these wonderful things
and seeing these wonderful places. About every other morning still I
wake up and think what a splendid dream I have had and wonder if it
isn't time for me to call Primmie and see about getting breakfast. And
then it comes to me that it isn't a dream at all and that I don't have
to get up unless I want to, that I don't have to do anything unless I
want to, and that everything a sensible person could possibly want to do
I CAN do, and have a free conscience besides, which is considerable.
I don't mean that I lay a-bed much later than I used to. I never could
abide not getting up at a regular time, and so half past seven generally
finds me ready to go down to breakfast. But, oh, it is a tremendous
satisfaction to think that I could sleep later if I ever should want to.
Although, of course, I can't conceive of my ever wanting to.

Well, I mustn't fill this whole letter with nonsense about the time I
get up in the morning. There is so much to write about that I don't know
where to begin. I do wish you could see this place, Lulie. I wish you
could be here now looking out of my room window at the crowds in the
street. I could fill a half dozen