obably not," says Zenobia.

"Oh yes, you will, Zenobia," says he. "I'm a desperate character still.
Remember that!"

She laughs and shuts the door. "There, Torchy!" says she. "See what
complications come from combining hot dogs with Bernard Shaw. And if
Martha should happen to get down before those bottles are removed--well,
I should have to tell her all."

Trust Martha. She did. And when I finished breakfast she was still
waitin' for Zenobia to come down and be quizzed. I don't know how far
back into fam'ly hist'ry that little chat took 'em, or what Martha had
to say. All I know is that when I shows up for dinner and comes
downstairs about six-thirty there sits Martha in the lib'ry, rocking
back and forth with that patient, resigned look on her face, as if she
was next in line at the dentist's.

"Zenobia isn't in yet," says she. "We will wait dinner awhile for her."

Then chunks of silence from Martha, which ain't usual. At seven o'clock
we gives it up and sits down alone. We hadn't finished our soup when
this telegram comes. First off I thought Martha was goin' to choke or
blow a cylinder head, I didn't know which. Then she takes to sobbin'
into the consomme, and fin'lly she shoves the message over to me.

"Wh-a-at?" I gasps. "Eloped, have they?"

"I--I knew they would," says Martha, "just as soon as I heard he'd been
here. He--he always wanted her to do it."

"Always?" says I. "Why, I thought he hadn't seen her for forty years or
so. How could that be?"

"We-we-well," sobs Martha, "I--I stopped them once. And she engaged to
the Rev. Mr. Preble at the time! It was scandalous! Such a wild,
reckless fellow Kyrle Ballard was too."

"Wh-e-ew!" I whistles. "That was goin' some for Zenobia, wasn't it? How
near did they come to doin' the slope?"

"She--she was actually stealing out to meet him, her things all on,"
says Martha, "when--when I woke up and found her. I made her come back
by threatening to call Mother. Engaged for two years, she and Mr. Preble
had been, and the wedding day all set. He'd just got a nice church too,
his first. I saved her that time; but now----" Martha relapses into the
sob act.

"The giddy young things!" says I. "Gone off on a honeymoon trip too!
Say, that ain't such slow work, is it? Gettin' there a little late,
maybe; but if there ever was a pair of silver sixties meant to be mated
up, I guess it's them. Well, well! I stand to lose a near-aunt by the
deal; but they get my blessin'