"Too darned serious," he nodded. "But, you see, he did n't know. I suppose the cross-your-throat, hope-to-die kind of marriage is serious. That's the trouble with it."
"I can see Chic coming down the aisle now, with his face chalk-white and--"
He looked down at her--surprised that she herself was taking this so seriously.
"My comrade," he said, "what you need is to play a little."
"Then where shall we go? The world is before you."
He was in exactly the mood to which she herself had looked forward--a mood of springtime and irresponsibility. That was what he should be. It was her right to feel like that also.
"Oh," she exclaimed, "I'd like to go to all the places I could n't go alone! Take me."
"To the races afterward and to the Riche for dinner?"
Her face was flushed as she nodded again.
"We're off!" he exclaimed, taking her arm.
It was an afternoon that left her no time to think. She was caught up by the gay, care-free crowd and swept around in a dizzy circle. Yet always Monte was by her side. She could take his arm if she became too confused, and that always steadied her.
Then she was whirled back to the hotel and to Marie, with no more time than was necessary to dress for dinner. She was glad there was no more time. For at least to-day there must be no unfilled intervals. She felt refreshed after her bath, and, to Marie's delight, consented to attire herself in one of her newest evening gowns, a costume of silk and lace that revealed her neck and arms. Also she allowed Marie to do her hair as she pleased. That was a good sign, but Marie thought madame's cheeks did not look like a good sign.
"Have you so soon forgotten what I asked of you?" Marjory interrupted.
"I hope mademoiselle," Marie corrected herself, "has not caught a fever."
"I should hope not," exclaimed Marjory. "What put that into your head?"
Marjory brought her hand to her face. It did not feel hot, because her hands were equally hot.
"It is nothing but the excitement that brings the color," she informed Marie. "I have been living almost like a nun; and now--to get out all at once takes away one's breath.
"Eh bien, madame--mademoiselle was married only this morning."
"You do not seem to understand," Marjory explained; "but it is necessary that you should understand. Monsieur Covington is to me only like--like a big brother. It is in order that he might be with me as a big brother we went through the ceremony. People about here talk a great deal, and I have taken his name to prevent that. That is all. And you are to remain with me and everything is to go on exactly as before, he in his apartments and we in ours. You understand now?"