"Oh, very well," he said. 'If I'm sent to jail, tell Thacker I went singing an epithalamium."
He rose.
"By the way," Harrowby remarked, "I'm giving a little dinner to-night—at the Manhattan Club. May I count on you?"
"Surely," Minot smiled. "I'll be there, wearing our necklace."
"My dear fellow—ah, I see you mean it pleasantly. Wear it, by all means."
Minot passed from the eccentric blooms of that dressing-gown to the more authentic flowers of the Florida outdoors. In the plaza he met Cynthia Meyrick, rival candidate to the morning in its glory.
"Matrimony," she said, "is more trouble than it seems on a moonlit night under the palms. I've never been so busy in my life. By the way, two of my bridesmaids arrived from New York last night. Lovely girls—both of them. But I forget!"
"Forget what?"
"Your young heart is already ensnared, isn't it?"
