nd that way; but I insists. As I climbs out
on the Yacht Club float, where he'd picked me up, he puts out his hand
friendly.

"And, say," says I, "how about Miss Vee?"

"Why," says he, "I'm very sorry she couldn't stay longer."

"Me too," says I. "Some girl, eh?"

Payne nods hearty, and we swaps a final grip.

Well, it was great! My one miscue was not wearin' a wig.

CHAPTER XIV

CUTTING IN ON THE BLISS

We thought it was all over too. That's the way it is in plays and
books, where they don't gen'rally take 'em beyond the final clinch,
leavin' you to fill in the bliss _ad lib_. But here we'd seen 'em
clear through the let-no-man-put-asunder stage, even watched 'em dodge
the rice and confetti in their dash to the limousine.

"Thank goodness that's through with!" remarks Mother, without makin'
any bones of it.

Course, her reg'lar cue was to fall on Father's neck and weep; but,
then, I expect Mrs. Cheyne Ballard's one of the kind you can't write
any form sheet for. She's a lively, bunchy little party, all jump and
go and jingle, who looks like she might have been married herself only
day before yesterday.

"I hope Robbie knows where she put those trunk checks," says Father, at
the same time sighin' sort of relieved.

From where I stood, though, the guy who was pushin' overboard the
biggest chunk of worry was this I-wilt boy, Mr. Nicholas Talbot. He'd
got her at last! But, z-z-z-zingo! it had been some lively gettin'.
Not that I was all through the campaign with him; but I'd had glimpses
here and there.

You see, Robbie's almost one of the fam'ly; for Mr. Robert's an old
friend of the Ballards, and was bottle holder or something at the
christenin'. As a matter of fact, she was named Roberta after him.
Then he'd watched her grow up, and always remembered her birthdays, and
kept her latest picture on his desk. So why shouldn't he figure more
or less when so many others was tryin' to straighten out her love
affairs? They was some tangled there for awhile too.

Robbie's one of the kind, you know, that would have Cupid cross-eyed in
one season. A queen? Well, take it from me! Say, the way her cheeks
was tinted up natural would have a gold medal rose lookin' like it come
off a twenty-nine-cent roll of wall paper. Then them pansy-colored
eyes! Yes, Miss Roberta Ballard was more or less ornamental. That
wa'n't all, of course. She could say more cute things, and cut loose
with more unexpec