o want me. We want each other. You love me,
Dicky, and I am going to love you--if you'll only let me look after
you and nurse you back to health again."

"I don't want to be nursed," Dick blubbered, his head buried in her
bosom, "I want to look out for you, and take care of you, and--and now
look at me. You'll never love me after this, Nancy."

"Yes, I shall, dear," Nancy said. "I've always loved you somehow.
It'll--it'll be the saving of me, Dick."

"Well, then I do want to be nursed. I--I haven't cried before since I
had the measles, Nancy."

"I'm glad you cried, now, then," Nancy said.

* * * * *

"I suppose you'll want to be married in the courtyard of the Inn,"
Dick said some weeks later, when they were conventionally ensconced in
Nancy's own drawing-room; Hitty happily rattling silverware in the
butler's pantry in the rear, "with old Triton blowing his wreathed
horn above us, and all the nymphs and gargoyles and Hercules as
interested spectators. Well, go as far as you like. I haven't any
objection. I'll be married in a Roman bath if you want me to, and eat
bran biscuit and hygienic apple sauce for my wedding breakfast."

"Betty and Preston are going to be married at the Inn," Nancy said;
"you know her mother's an invalid, and they can't have it at home. Do
you know what I'd like to give them as a wedding present?"

"I don't."

"Well, you know, Preston's firm has gone out of existence. The war
simply killed it. They haven't much money ahead, and he may have a
harder time than he thinks getting located again."

"Yes?"

"I thought I'd like to give them Outside Inn for a wedding present.
Besides, I don't see what else there is to do with it. It's making
several hundred a month, now, and promises to make more."

"Good idea," Dick said.

"You don't seem exceedingly interested."

"Oh, I am," Dick said, "I'm more interested in our wedding than
Betty's wedding present, but that doesn't imply a lack of merit in
your idea. _You'll_ want to be married at the Inn, I take it?"

"You'd let me, wouldn't you?"

"Sure I'd let you. When a man marries a modern girl with all the
trappings and the suits of modernity, he ought to be prepared to take
the consequences cheerfully."

"Then I'm going to surprise you. I don't want anything modern at all
about my wedding. I want it in church with a huge bridal bouquet and
_Lohengrin_ and white satin; Caroline for my matron of hon