geously happy Mrs. Dudley Drake was with her husband in his room in a second-rate Paris hotel. She was curled upon his rather uncomfortable bed and chattering while he kneeled upon the floor and tossed his belongings into a suitcase. They had decided to take the afternoon train for Fontainebleau for a hurried honeymoon and there was little time to spare. For one thing they must wire Carmelita's doubtlessly dumbfounded duenna and tell her to board the steamer with her ticket and Carmelita's trunks and throw the other ticket into the ocean. And Carmelita must, she decided soberly, send a cablegram at once to her father. About the matter of replacing, sketchily to be sure, at least two outfits of clothes that she had lost she was rather diffident about discussing with Dudley. But when she did mention it he insisted upon paying for the new purchases, though his wife's purse bulged with a sum that was double his entire fortune.
Dudley had announced that for the ensuing few days they would, as he expressed it to Carmelita's mystification as to his meaning, "shoot the works." He meant, he explained, spending their money like true honeymooners. Then they would settle down to a liquidated status. Carmelita seconded this heartily. She was very virtuous and grave and confident
