The Corbin necklace
Punch, very casually, followed along behind.
“I know what she’s saying to him,” Judy remarked. “She was talking
to me about it just now. She wants to know where we’re going--on
our wedding trip. She seems to think we’ve got to go somewhere now,
to-night--if only to a hotel in town. In order to be--decent, you know.”
“I’ll tell you where you can go if you don’t want to do that,” I said.
“Go down to my cottage. Just walk off, the two of you, now, any time
you like.”
“Oh, you darling!” she cried, and put her head down on my shoulder with
something like a sob of relief. “Do you mean we can stay there?”
“As long as you like,” I told her. “I got things ready, more or less,
on the chance, when I went home to lunch. I’ll get Mrs. Corbin to take
me in up here. You’ll find enough to eat to last you till Monday,
anyhow.”
“Your nice little house,” she murmured, “--that I thought I was going
to be married in. But this is better.”
She sprang up, all trace of fatigue gone.
“Bill,” she called.
Victoria followed them into the house.
Punch dropped down beside me.
“Well,” he said, “it’s been a perfectly wonderful three days, hasn’t
it? I don’t suppose I’ll ever have anything as exciting as that happen
again. But I’m sort of glad it’s over.--Only, where do you suppose
mother’s going to keep the necklace till she can put it in the bank on
Monday?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But if she tells you I shall never forgive
her. You can trust her with it, anyhow. She won’t lose it.”
“No,” said Punch contentedly, “I guess she won’t.”
THE END
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.