Romeo tore a leaf from an old memorandum book which he carried, and wrote rapidly: 

“Dear Jule: 

“Isabel and I have gone away to get married.  You can have half of everything.  I’ll let you know where to send my clothes.

“R.C.”

He was tempted to add an apology for what he had said earlier in the day, but his newly acquired importance made him refrain from anything so compromising.

He folded the note into a little cocked hat and addressed it.  “Much obliged,” he said, laconically.  “So long.”

“So long,” returned Doctor Jack, starting the engine.

“Good-bye,” said the Colonel, lifting his hat.

Romeo left Isabel at Madame Bernard’s gate.  “Hurry up,” he said, in a low tone.  “I’ll meet you under the big elm down the road.”

“All right,” she whispered.

Madame Bernard was asleep, so Isabel hastily crammed a few things into a suit-case and slipped out of the house, unseen and unheard.  As the half-starved minister of the country parish was sorely in need of the generous fee Romeo pressed upon him in advance, the arrangements were pitifully easy.  He was at the trysting place fully ten minutes before she came in sight, staggering under the unaccustomed burden of a heavy suit-case.

It might not have occurred to him to relieve Juliet of a cumbrous piece of baggage, but he instinctively took it from Isabel.  “Come on,” he said.  “We’ve got to hurry if we don’t want to miss the four-thirty.”

“How long does it take to get married?” queried Isabel.

“Not long, I guess.  See how people fool around over it, and we’re getting through with it in one afternoon.  We’re making a record, I guess.”

It seemed that they were, for when they came to the shabby little brown house, near the big white church, the minister, his wife, and a next-door neighbour were waiting.  In a very short time, the ceremony was over and Mr. and Mrs. Romeo Crosby were on the train, speeding toward their honeymoon and the lively years that undoubtedly lay ahead of them.

Allison had changed his mind about going out that afternoon, but promised to go next time.  Colonel Kent remained at home, and Doctor Jack sped away alone upon his errand.

When he reached Crosby’s, Juliet clad in her best, was just leaving the house.  She was outwardly cheerful, but her face still bore traces of tears.

“Where were you going?” asked the Doctor, as Juliet greeted him.  There was a new shyness in her manner, as of some unwonted restraint.

“I was going into town.  I wanted to see Aunt Francesca.”  She slipped easily into the habit of the others, seldom hearing the name “Madame Bernard.”

“I’ll take you.  Here’s a note from your brother.”

Juliet opened it, read the fateful message, and turned white as death.

“What is it?” asked the Doctor, much alarmed.