An Accidental Honeymoon. Edward Barron
said Cresap at last, “don’t tease Fessenden. Rather, if your inferior half may venture the humble suggestion, I would urge a casual glance at his trousers. What do you see, Little Brighteyes?”
“Goodness, Tom! They’re wet. Positively dripping!”
“I lost my way coming over, and had to wade through a brook.”
“And I never noticed it until now. And I declare I haven’t given you a chance to get to your room yet. Pinck, why didn’t you remind me? Ring the bell, please. Tom, you must change your things right away.”
Alone in his room, Fessenden read the note delivered by the cadet of the house of Jones.
Dear Mr. Puddin’ Tame:
Shall we have it for a secret that you’re coming to supper at our house to-morrow? We aren’t quality folk, and maybe Mrs. Cresap wouldn’t like it. So please don’t breathe it to a soul, but just steal away, and come.
Betty.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
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