"You bet I have!"
"How did you ever manage it! I thought I had refused you!"
"I don't understand it myself. It just happened. It had to be."
"You ought to be a highwayman!"
"It's partly _your_ fault, you know!"
"And I've known you only a month! How reckless! It must have been that
incorrigible, irresistible, unexpected, unkissed nick in your chin!
I've gone from new moon to full, at a bound! Now I'm a bride-rampant: I
could fight my way to you through eight miles of jungle! Was I pretty,
Leah?" She turned and held out her hand.
"'Deed you _were_, Miss Joy, honey, I never see you' beat!"
How she laughed! "And you were the sweetest bridesmaid, too! See her
eyes, Chester, _please_ look round! Never mind if we do run into a
tree, to-day. Did you ever see such hidden depths of gold as are
beneath her eyes? Isn't that color and outline perfect? There's no
wildfire or heroics about Leah, but she's got more brains than both of
us put together! And she's got a southern accent now, that you couldn't
dissipate with an electric battery. Leah, you're as beautiful as a
jaguar! Can't you go faster, chauffeur, dear? I'd rather eat flypaper
than ride in a slow automobile! Say, it's awfully stimulating to get
married, isn't it? I'm going to do it all the time, after this."
I leaned over to kiss her, and we nearly ran into the depot-wagon on its
way from the train. We were followed by two dozen eyes till we were
hidden by a turn of the road.
So her brain coined as we sped along, shrieking with laughter. But
Joy's frolic mood subsided as we approached Midmeadows. She looked at me
plaintively and said:
"The idea of the White Cat's being married before she's had her head and
tail cut off!"
"Oh, that'll be done before you know it!" I said. "What I'm thinking is
that now Doctor Copin will never be allowed at Midmeadows again, if I
have to keep him out by force. With him out of the way, we can manage
the rest. But no more of that now. It's our wedding day! We ought to
have told King to bake a cake!"
We had quieted down enough by supper-time to talk the matter over calmly
and plan for to-morrow. The time had, queerly enough, more the effect
of parting than the beginning of a new and happy life. Joy grew wistful
and _distraite_ as the evening wore on. I would not let her talk of
"the murder," as she called it, and I tried to keep her mind from
returning to the mystery of Edna's presence. Finally she said:
"Chester, I'd like to send her a message. Just think, I've never had any
communication with her!"
"It will do no good," I replied.
"It will do no harm," she insisted. "I may never have another chance.
I'm going to write a note for you to give her, if she comes to-morrow.
Will you?"
I said that of course I would, and she sat down at her secretary and,
after thinking a few minutes, biting her pen, she wrote this:
DEAR EDNA:--What has brought us together we can never know. But it is
terrible to me to think that, being so closely and mysteriously related,
we could not have been friends. For all you have done to me and mine, I
forgive you, and somewhere and somehow I hope that you will forgive me
for everything I have done to you.