munication you 're going to make? As far as I know, when a lady speaks solemnly of having an important matter to impart, it only means one thing."
"What 's that?" asked Letitia, without responding to the raillery of his tone.
"That she is going to be married."
"Well, that 's just it," she answered, and continued to look out of the window.
"What?"
Gault leaned forward and tried to see what her face revealed. It was handsome as ever, calm and imperturbable.
"That 's just it," she repeated, turning toward him and letting her eyes dwell gravely on his. "That 's what I wanted to talk to you about."
"Tishy!" he ejaculated. "Why, you amaze me!"
"Why should I?" she queried. "Everybody gets married sometime or other."
"I know, but—who is it?"
"Tod McCormick."
"Oh, Letitia!" he exclaimed in quite a different tone—a man's tone of sudden revolt and protest. "Tod McCormick?"
"Yes, of course, Tod McCormick. I should think you would have guessed him in a minute."
"He 's the last person I ever should have thought of."
