PTER THIRTY-ONE

"Suppose,"--said Mrs. Bryce, as they got into the limousine, "--suppose
we postpone explanations until after lunch. I'm too worn out to
understand anything you may say."

So conversation was casual enough on the way home. Once there, Isabelle
manoeuvred to get Larry alone, but Wally stuck to him like a father.

"Wally," said his daughter, sternly, "Max wants you."

"What does she want?"--impatiently.

"You."

He went, reluctantly. Larry held out two eager hands to Isabelle, but
she ignored them.

"Sweetheart," he said, anxiously.

"Larry, you told a lie."

"Many of 'em, darlin'. Which one?"

"You said I was going to marry you."

"Aren't you, crickety-Cricket?"--anxiously.

"I haven't decided--yet."

"But won't ye decide, dearie?"

"I may--when I'm properly asked."

"What is properly, Mavourneen?"

"I don't know. I've never been proposed to before, except by Jean
Jacques Petard."

She was entirely in earnest, so he humoured her.

"Would ye prefer the formal 'Will-ye-do-me-the-honour-to-become-me-bride?'
sort, or a more impassioned style?"

"Oh, Larry, you must advise me! Which would you take?"

With a laugh--half amused, wholly tender--he took her into his arms.

"I'd take the quickest way to get ye, little wee leprechaun."

"Larry, I won't let you off. I do so _want_ to be proposed to."

"My dear," he said gently, "I love ye a very great deal. I want ye to
love me a very great deal, and to be my wife."

Both arms went around his neck. She drew his tall head down to her, and
kissed him.

"Thank you, Larry; I will," she said.

He gathered her up and went to sit in a chair big enough to hold them
both. He kissed her eyes, her saucy chin, her hair. He told her in
tender ways, known only to the Irish, how he loved her, how he wanted to
make for her a shield of his love, to keep her safe and happy.

"Do ye love me, Cricket?" he begged her.

"Larry," she said, solemnly; "I feel as if you were all the people I
have loved in my whole life--Ann, Mrs. Benjamin, Jerry, and Herbert----"

"And Percy?" he teased her. "When did ye begin to love me?" he asked, in
the old way of lovers.

"On the boat, going down."

"Ye didn't."

"I did."

"I felt it comin' on me, stronger and stronger, at Bermuda, but that
night when ye came into my arms in the garden settled it. I had to come
and find out who ye thought ye were lovin'."

She only laughed. Luncheon was announced and the fam