door numbered "89." She had been there many times before, with
Barbara and Uncle Jerome.

Gilbert opened the door. He had a crayon pencil in one hand, a green
shade over his eyes, and a pipe in his mouth. The pipe dropped to the
floor.

"Am I late?" asked Nevada. "I came as quick as I could. Uncle and me
were at the theatre this evening. Here I am, Gilbert!"

Gilbert did a Pygmalion-and-Galatea act. He changed from a statue of
stupefaction to a young man with a problem to tackle. He admitted
Nevada, got a whisk-broom, and began to brush the snow from her clothes.
A great lamp, with a green shade, hung over an easel, where the artist
had been sketching in crayon.

"You wanted me," said Nevada simply, "and I came. You said so in your
letter. What did you send for me for?"

"You read my letter?" inquired Gilbert, sparring for wind.

"Barbara read it to me. I saw it afterward. It said: 'Come to my studio
at twelve to-night, and do not fail.' I thought you were sick, of
course, but you don't seem to be."

"Aha!" said Gilbert irrelevantly. "I'll tell you why I asked you to
come, Nevada. I want you to marry me immediately--to-night. What's a
little snow-storm? Will you do it?"

"You might have noticed that I would, long ago," said Nevada. "And I'm
rather stuck on the snow-storm idea, myself. I surely would hate one of
these flowery church noon-weddings. Gilbert, I didn't know you had grit
enough to propose it this way. Let's shock 'em--it's our funeral, ain't
it?"

"You bet!" said Gilbert. "Where did I hear that expression?" he added
to himself. "Wait a minute, Nevada; I want to do a little 'phoning."

He shut himself in a little dressing-room, and called upon the
lightnings of the heavens--condensed into unromantic numbers and
districts.

"That you, Jack? You confounded sleepyhead! Yes, wake up; this is me--or
I--oh, bother the difference in grammar! I'm going to be married right
away. Yes! Wake up your sister--don't answer me back; bring her along,
too--you _must_! Remind Agnes of the time I saved her from drowning in
Lake Ronkonkoma--I know it's caddish to refer to it, but she must come
with you. Yes. Nevada is here, waiting. We've been engaged quite a
while. Some opposition among the relatives, you know, and we have to
pull it off this way. We're waiting here for you. Don't let Agnes
out-talk you--bring her! You will? Good old boy! I'll order a carriage
to call for you, double-quick time. Confound you, Jack,