"Here's how," said Charley to John.

"Yes, here's how," I added more emphatically.

John looked at Charley with a somewhat extraordinary smile. "Here's
unquestionably how!" he exclaimed.

We had a gay lunch; I should have supposed there was plenty of room in
the Hermana's refrigerator; nor did the absence of Hortense and John,
the cause of our jubilation, at all interfere with the jubilation
itself; by the time the launch was ready to put me ashore, Gazza
had sung several miles of "good music" and double that quantity of
"razzla-dazzla," and General Rieppe was crying copiously, and assuring
everybody that God was very good to him. But Kitty had told us all that
she intended Hortense to remain quiet in her cabin; and she kept her
word.

Quite suddenly, as the launch was speeding me toward Kings Port, I
exclaimed aloud: "The cake!"

And, I thought, the cake was now settled forever.

XXII: Behind the Times

It was my lot to attend but one of the weddings which Hortense
precipitated (or at least determined) by her plunge into the water; and,
truth to say, the honor of my presence at the other was not requested;
therefore I am unable to describe the nuptials of Hortense and Charley.
But the papers were full of them; what the female guests wore, what the
male guests were worth, and what both ate and drank, were set forth in
many columns of printed matter; and if you did not happen to see this,
just read the account of the next wedding that occurs among the New York
yellow rich, and you will know how Charley and Hortense were married;
for it's always the same thing. The point of mark in this particular
ceremony of union lay in Charley's speech; Charley found a happy thought
at the breakfast. The bridal party (so the papers had it) sat on a
dais, and was composed exclusively of Oil, Sugar, Beef, Steel, and Union
Pacific; merely at this one table five hundred million dollars were
sitting (so the papers computed), and it helped the bridegroom to his
idea, when, by the importunate vociferations of the company, he was
forced to get on his unwilling legs.

"Poets and people of that sort say" (Charley concluded, after thanking
them) "that happiness cannot be bought with money. Well, I guess a poet
never does learn how to make a dollar do a dollar's work. But I am no
poet; and I have learned it is as well to have a few dollars around. And
I guess that my friends and I, right here at this table, could organize
a corne