o bid you farewell,
Isabel, and I don't see why he shouldn't. We have still five minutes."

There are limits to the propriety of all practical jokes, and I walked
out at once to assure Arthur that his misunderstanding was quite
natural, and somewhat less exquisitely humorous than Mr. Dod appeared to
find it.

"I am merely eloping too," I said, "in case anything should happen to
Isabel." Realising that this was also being misinterpreted, I added,
"She is not accustomed to travelling alone."

We had shaken hands, and that always makes a situation more normal, but
there was still plainly an enormous amount to clear up, and painfully
little time to do it in, though Dicky with great consideration
immediately put Isabel into the carriage and followed her to its
remotest corner, leaving me standing at the door, and Arthur holding it
open. The second bell rang as I learned from Mr. Page that the
Pattersons had gone to Newport this summer, and that it was extremely
hot in New York when he left. As the guard came along the platform
shutting up the doors of the train, Arthur's agitation increased, and I
saw that his customary suffering in connection with me, was quite as
great as anybody could desire. The guard had skipped our carriage, but
it was already vibrating in departure--creaking--moving. I looked at
Arthur in a manner--I confess it--which annihilated our two months of
separation.

"Then since you're not going to marry Dod," he inquired breathlessly,
walking along with the train--"I've heard various reports--whom, may I
ask, _are_ you going to marry?"

"Why, nobody," I said, "unless----"

"Well, I should think so!" ejaculated Arthur, and in spite of the
frightful German language used by the guard, he jumped into the
carriage.

He has maintained ever since that he was obliged to do it in order to
explain his presence on the platform, which was, of course, carrying the
matter to its logical conclusion. It seemed that the Senator had advised
him to come over and meet us accidentally in Venice, where he had
intimated that reunion would be only a question of privacy and a full
moon. On his arrival at Venice--it was _his_ gondola that we shared--the
Senator had discouraged him for the moment, and had since constantly
telegraphed him that the opportune moment had not yet arrived. Finally
poppa had written to say that, though he grieved to announce that I
was engaged to Dicky, and he could not guarantee any disengagement,