eld her, and pressed his lips to hers. For a moment she
yielded to that embrace and closed her eyes, and then she gently drew
away from him.

"We mustn't indulge in that sort of thing very much," she reminded
him, "or we're likely to lose all our good resolutions."

"Good resolutions," declared Bobby, "are a nuisance."

She smiled and shook her head.

"Look at the people who haven't any," she reminded him.

It was perhaps half an hour later when an idea which brought with it a
smile came to her.

"We've definitely resolved now to wait until you have either
accomplished what you set out to do, or completely failed, haven't
we?"

"Yes," he assented soberly.

"Then I'm going to open one of the letters your father left for us. I
have been dying with curiosity to know what is in it," and hurrying up
to her secretary she brought down one of the inevitable gray
envelopes, addressed:

_To My Children Upon the Occasion of Their Deciding to Marry
Before the Limit of My Prohibition_

"What I can not for the life of me understand is why the devil
you didn't do it long ago!"

Bobby was so thoroughly awake to the underlying principle of Agnes'
contention that even this letter did nothing to change his viewpoint.

"For it isn't him, it is us, or rather it is me, who is to be
considered," he declared. "But it does seem to me, Agnes, as if for
once we had got the better of the governor."

They were still laughing over the unexpectedness of the letter when
Aunt Constance came in, and they showed it to her.

"Good!" she exclaimed, dwelling longer upon the inscription than upon
the letter itself. "I think you're quite sensible, and I'll arrange
the finest wedding for Agnes that has ever occurred in the Elliston
family. You must give me at least a couple of months, though. When is
it to come off? Soon, I suppose?"

Carefully and patiently they explained the stand they had taken. At
first she thought they were joking, and it took considerable
reiteration on their part for her to understand that they were not.

"I declare I have no patience with you!" she avowed. "Of all the
humdrum, prosaic people I ever saw, you are the very worst! There is
no romance in you. You're as cool about it as if marriage were a
commercial partnership. Oh, Dan!" and she called her husband from the
library. "Now what do you think of this?" she demanded, and explained
the ridiculous attitude of the young people.

"Great!" deci