"Well, I am. I don't _know_ as I can trust you out of my sight till _then!_ You'll read something, or hear something, or get a letter from Kate after breakfast to-morrow morning, that will set you 'saving me'

again; and I don't want to be saved--that way. I'm going to marry you to-morrow. I'll get--" He stopped short, with a sudden frown. "Confound that law! I forgot. Great Scott, Billy, I'll have to trust you five days, after all! There's a new law about the license. We've _got_ to wait five days--and maybe more, counting in the notice, and all."

Billy laughed softly.

"Five days, indeed, sir! I wonder if you think I can get ready to be married in five days."

"Don't want you to get ready," retorted Bertram, promptly. "I saw Marie get ready, and I had all I wanted of it. If you really must have all those miles of tablecloths and napkins and doilies and lace rufflings we'll do it afterwards,--not before."

"But--"

"Besides, I _need_ you to take care of me," cut in Bertram, craftily.

"Bertram, do you--really?"

The tender glow on Billy's face told its own story, and Bertram's eager eyes were not slow to read it.

"Sweetheart, see here, dear," he cried softly, tightening his good left arm. And forthwith he began to tell her how much he did, indeed, need her.

"Billy, my dear!" It was Aunt Hannah's plaintive voice at the doorway, a little later. "We must go home; and William is here, too, and wants to see you."

Billy rose at once as Aunt Hannah entered the room.

"Yes, Aunt Hannah, I'll come; besides"--she glanced at Bertram mischievously--"I shall need all the time I've got to prepare for--my wedding."

"Your wedding! You mean it'll be before--October?" Aunt Hannah glanced from one to the other uncertainly. Something in their smiling faces sent a quick suspicion to her eyes.

"Yes," nodded Billy, demurely. "It's next Tuesday, you see."

"Next Tuesday! But that's only a week away," gasped Aunt Hannah.

"Yes, a week."

"But, child, your trousseau--the wedding--the--the--a week!" Aunt Hannah could not articulate further.

"Yes, I know; that is a good while," cut in Bertram, airily. "We wanted it to-morrow, but we had to wait, on account of the new license law.

Otherwise it wouldn't have been so long, and--"

But Aunt Hannah was gone. With a low-breathed "Long! Oh, my grief and conscience--_William!_" she had fled through the hall door.

"Well, it _is_ long," maintained Bertram, with tender eyes, as he reached out his hand to say good-night.