so
fervid were the contents.

"Nonsense! My dear Ruth, you will be married in my house and the
breakfast will be in the garden. If Peter and your father haven't got
any common sense, that's no reason why you and Jack should lose your
wits."

This, of course, ended the matter. No one living or dead had ever been
found with nerve enough to withstand Felicia Grayson when she had once
made up her mind.

And then, again, there was no time to lose in unnecessary discussions.
Were not Ruth and her father picnicking in a hired villa, with half
their household goods in a box-car at Morfordsburg?--and was not Jack
still living in his two rooms at Mrs. Hicks's? The only change suggested
by the lovers was in the date of the wedding, Miss Felicia having
insisted that it should not take place until November, "FOUR WHOLE
WEEKS AWAY." But the old lady would not budge. Four weeks at least, she
insisted, would be required for the purchase and making of the wedding
clothes, which, with four more for the honeymoon (at this both Jack and
Ruth shouted with laughter, they having determined on a honeymoon
the like of which had never been seen since Adam and Eve went to
housekeeping in the Garden). These eight weeks, continued the practical
old lady, would be required to provide a suitable home for them both;
now an absolute necessity, seeing that Mr. Guthrie had made extensive
contracts with MacFarlane, which, with Jack's one-fifth interest in the
ore banks was sure to keep Jack and MacFarlane at Morfordsburg for some
years to come.

So whizz went another telegram--this time from Jack--there was no time
for letters these days--stopping all work on the nearly completed log
cabin which the poor young superintendent had ordered, and which was all
he could afford, before the sale of the ore lands. But then THAT seemed
ages and ages ago.

"Don't tell me what I want, sir," roared Mr. Golightly at the waiter,
in "Lend Me Five Shillings," when he brought a crust of bread and cheese
and a pickle with which to entertain Mrs. Phobbs; Golightly in the
meantime having discovered a purse full of sovereigns in the coat the
waiter had handed him by mistake. "Don't tell me what I said, sir.
I know what I said, sir! I said champagne, sir, and plenty of
it, sir!--turkeys, and plenty of them!

Burgundy--partridges--lobsters--pineapple punch--pickled
salmon--everything! Look sharp, Be off!" (Can't you hear dear Joe
Jefferson's voice, gentle reader, throug