Aunt is still adamant against our marriage. She says I'm to wait till we return to New York before even talking wedding or dreaming of setting a date. But she doesn't know what I've done! And that is, I've despatched you a cablegram, suggesting the thirty-first of May, tra-la! And added Checkers' news. No more tonight, for I'm sleepy, dear.
I had been in bed some time, Polly my love, dozing and dreaming of you, when I heard the door in the salon open and someone knocking about in the dark, so I called out to know who it was. The half-asleep _portier_ said, "Two telegrams, signor." Up I got; up the light went, too. Eagerly the yellow envelopes were torn open. One was yours, "Hurry up! Come soon. How about May 31?"
For a moment I stood dazed, overwhelmed by the thought--my wedding day! Then suddenly the realization in a great flood of happiness came over me. Oh, indeed, I'll hurry!
And the other cable? Aha! That was from my successor, the new Secretary. He has already arrived in London and stopping there for a few days' business.
Checkers and Sybil have my congratulations. They certainly have sprung a surprise.
Just back from Louisville and staying here for a couple of days before starting for Canada. I am chuckling to myself and wondering how the Prince and Aunt will like it, for they've never been camping before. And I'm chuckling about something else, too. As soon as your letter came, I ordered the invitations engraved, writing on from Louisville to the stationer's. Aunt has continued blandly obstinate, and deep down in her heart she is still intending that this trip will give Boris his best chance to make me change my mind--but we will see. I asked her if we could be married as soon as you came back. She tightened up her mouth with a crisp, "No!" Nevertheless, she can't stop me; I'm of age.
Then what do you think we did, Sybil, Checkers, and I? We went to our Rector--your father's old friend, you know he thinks everything of your family--and he said he'd perform the ceremony. So we've secured the church. We ordered the music and decorations--crimson azaleas. Just an hour ago while Aunt was wrestling with a few last details regarding the trip, Checkers took a traveling bag, filled it with the invitations I had been surreptitiously addressing, and we went out and mailed them, dancing around the mail-box till passers-by thought we were utter lunatics.