THE papers made the most of the sensation with which Sally had provided them. Winslow's sensitive soul squirmed as he read the headlines. He suffered tortures. Hildegarde's flight had been the final blow. Yet he had faced the newspaper men with an impassive front, and had told his story artfully. He had hinted at his own dissatisfaction with the engagement before Sally ran away. One gained the impression that it had been he and not Sally who had first wanted to break the bonds, but that a sense of honor had restrained him.
Sally was furious. "It isn't true. That's why I hate it," she told her young husband. "I deserve punishment. But not this."
"The man's a cheap cad. If you say so, I'll go down and make him eat his words."
Sally shook her head. "No, it would simply be nuts for the newspapers and beastly for me. But if you want a chastened wife, you have her. Henceforth I shall be a Griselda. As meek as they make 'em."
Merry kissed her. "I don't want you meek. You know that."
He had just come back from Round Hill. Louis had sent for him. "I need you," he had said, "I don't want to break in on your honeymoon."
