Only think how disappointed they'd all be if I should say: 'Never mind--stop that.

Marie's just going to have a minister.

No fuss, no feathers!' Why, dearie, even the roses are hanging their heads for grief," she went on mistily, lifting with gentle fingers one of the full-petalled pink beauties near her.

"Besides, there's your--guests." "Oh, of course, I knew I couldn't--really," sighed Marie, as she turned to go up-stairs, all the light and joy gone from her face.
Billy, once assured that Marie was out of hearing, ran to the telephone.
Bertram answered.
"Bertram, tell Cyril I want to speak to him, please." "All right, dear, but go easy.

Better strike up your tuning fork to find his pitch to-day.