"I'm afraid so." She fingered the brilliants wistfully. "I think I like these better. I'm a little tired of diamonds."
"Very well," said John gloomily. "We'll have to live in Hades. And you will grow old telling incredulous women that you got the wrong drawer. Unfortunately your father's bank-books were consumed with him."
"Well, what's the matter with Hades?"
"If I come home with a wife at my age my father is just as liable as not to cut me off with a hot coal, as they say down there."
Jasmine spoke up.
"I love washing," she said quietly. "I have always washed my own handkerchiefs. I'll take in laundry and support you both."
"Do they have washwomen in Hades?" asked Kismine innocently.
"Of course," answered John. "It's just like anywhere else."
"I thought—perhaps it was too hot to wear any clothes."
John laughed.
"Just try it!" he suggested. "They'll run you out before you're half started."
"Will father be there?" she asked.
John turned to her in astonishment.
"Your father is dead," he replied sombrely. "Why should he go to Hades? You have it confused with another place that was abolished long ago."
After supper they folded up the table-cloth and spread their blankets for the night.
"What a dream it was," Kismine sighed, gazing up at the stars. "How strange it seems to be here with one dress and a penniless fiancée!
