t
Club is on the River Boulevard? I'll be there, to-morrow morning at ten.
I'd come for you, to your house," he added quickly, "but we don't want
any one to know, yet--do we?"

She shook her head.

"We must keep it secret for a while," he said. "Wear your new dress--the
blue one. Good-bye--sweetheart."

He kissed her again and hurried out of the office.... Boarding the train
just as it was about to start, he settled himself in the back seat of the
smoker, lit a cigar, inhaling deep breaths of the smoke and scarcely
noticing an acquaintance who greeted him from the aisle. Well, he had
done it! He was amazed. He had not intended to propose marriage, and when
he tried to review the circumstances that had led to this he became
confused. But when he asked himself whether indeed he were willing to pay
such a price, to face the revolution marriage--and this marriage in
particular--would mean in his life, the tumult in his blood beat down his
incipient anxieties. Besides, he possessed the kind of mind able to throw
off the consideration of possible consequences, and by the time the train
had slowed down in the darkness of the North Station in Boston all traces
of worry had disappeared. The future would take care of itself.

For the Bumpus family, supper that evening was an unusually harmonious
meal. Hannah's satisfaction over the new stove had by no means subsided,
and Edward ventured, without reproof, to praise the restored quality of
the pie crust. And in contrast to her usual moroseness and
self-absorption, even Lise was gay--largely because her pet aversion, the
dignified and allegedly amorous Mr. Waiters, floor-walker at the
Bagatelle, had fallen down the length of the narrow stairway leading from
the cashier's cage. She became almost hysterical with glee as she
pictured him lying prone beneath the counter dedicated to lingerie,
draped with various garments from the pile that toppled over on him.
"Ruby Nash picked a brassiere off his whiskers!" Lise shrieked. "She gave
the pile a shove when he landed. He's got her number all right. But say,
it was worth the price of admission to see that old mutt when he got up,
he looked like Santa Claus. All the girls in the floor were there we
nearly split trying to keep from giving him the ha-ha. And Ruby says,
sympathetic, as she brushed him off, `I hope you ain't hurt, Mr.
Waiters.' He was sore! He went around all afternoon with a bunch on his
coco as big as a potato." So vivid w