“The new building goes with the outfit, on the same terms,” continued Mr. Merrick.  “That is I take one-fifth of your net profits for the whole thing.”

“But, sir,” suggested Thursday, “suppose no profits materialize?”

“Then I have induced you to undertake a poor venture and must suffer the consequences, which to me will be no hardship at all.  In that case I will agree to find some better business for you, but I am quite positive you will make a go of the Millville Weekly Tribune.”

“I think so, too, Mr. Merrick, or I would not accept your generous offer,” replied Smith.

“What do you think, Hetty?”

“The idea pleases me immensely,” she declared.  “It is a splendid opportunity for us, and will enable us to live here quietly and forget the big outside world.  New York has had a bad influence on both you and me, Thursday, and here we can begin a new life of absolute respectability.”

“When do you intend to be married?” asked Patsy.

“We have scarcely thought of that, as yet, for until this evening we did not know what the future held in store for us.”

“Couldn’t you arrange the wedding before we leave?” asked Beth.  “It would delight us so much to be present at the ceremony.”

“I think we owe the young ladies that much, Thursday,” said Hetty, after a brief hesitation.

“Nothing could please me better,” he asserted eagerly.

So they canvassed the wedding, and Patsy proposed they transfer the paper to Thursday and Hetty—­to become a weekly instead of a daily—­in a week’s time, and celebrate the wedding immediately after the second issue, so as to give the bridal couple a brief vacation before getting to work again.  Neither of them wished to take a wedding trip, and Mr. Merrick promised to rush the work on the new building so they could move into their new rooms in the course of a few weeks.

CHAPTER XXIV

A CHEERFUL BLUNDER

“We would like to ask your advice about one thing, sir,” said Thursday Smith to Mr. Merrick, a little later that same evening.  “Would it be legal for me to marry under the name of Thursday Smith, or must I use my real name—­Harold Melville?”

Uncle John could not answer this question, nor could the major or Arthur.  Hetty and her fiancé had both decided to cling to the name of Thursday Smith thereafter, and they disliked to be married under any other—­especially the detestable one of Harold Melville.

“An act of legislature would render your new name legal, I believe,” said Mr. Merrick; “but such an act could not be passed until after the date you have planned to be married.”

“But if it was made legal afterward it wouldn’t matter greatly,” suggested the major.

“I do not think it matters at all,” asserted Hetty.  “It’s the man I’m marrying, not his name.  I don’t much care what he calls himself.”