church."

Well, he wa'n't. And they hadn't seen him at another minister's that
the old man said Rossy knew.

"If she was an actorine," says I, "she'd be apt to steer him to the
place where they has most of their splicin' done. Why not try there?"

"Good idea!" says he, and we lights out hot foot for the Little Church
Around the Corner.

And say! Talk about your long shots! As we piles out what should I
see but the carrotty topped night hawk that'd had Rossy and me for
fares earlier in the evenin'.

"You're a winner," says I to the old man. "It's a case of waitin' at
the church. Ten to one you'll find Rossiter inside."

It was a cinch. Rossy was the first one we saw as we got into the
anteroom.

It wa'n't what you'd call a real affectionate meetin'. The old man
steps up and eyes him for a minute, like a dyspeptic lookin' at a piece
of overdone steak in a restaurant, and then he remarks: "What blasted
nonsense is this, sir?"

"Why," says Rossy, shiftin' from one foot to the other, and grinnin'
foolisher'n I ever saw him grin before--"why, I just thought I'd get
married, that's all."

"That's all, eh?" says the old man, and you could have filed a saw with
his voice. "Sort of a happy inspiration of the moment, was it?"

"Well," says Rossy, "not--not exactly that. I'd been thinking of it
for some time, sir."

"The deuce you say!" says the old man.

"I--I didn't think you'd object," says Rossy.

"Wow!" says the old man. He'd been holdin' in a long spell, for him,
but then he just boiled over. "See here, you young rascal!" says he.
"What do you mean by talking that way to me? Didn't think I'd object!
D'ye suppose I'm anxious to have all New York know that my son's been
made a fool of? Think your mother and I are aching to have one of
these bleached hair chorus girls in the family? Got her inside there,
have you?"

"Yes, sir," says Rossy.

"Well, bring her out here!" says the old man. "I've got something to
say to her."

"All right, sir," says Rossy. If there ever was a time for throwin'
the hooks into a parent, it was then. But he's as good humoured and
quiet about it as though he'd just been handed a piece of peach pie.
"I'll bring her right out," says he.

When he comes in with the lady, the old man takes one look at her and
almost loses his breath for good.

"Eunice May Ogden!" says he. "Why--why on earth didn't you say so
before, Rossy?"

"Oh, hush!" says the lady. "Do be sti