Mr. Spragg accepted the situation also.  A son-in-law who expected to be pensioned like a Grand Army veteran was a phenomenon new to his experience; but if that was what Undine wanted she should have it.  Only two days later, however, he was met by a new demand—­the young people had decided to be married “right off,” instead of waiting till June.  This change of plan was made known to Mr. Spragg at a moment when he was peculiarly unprepared for the financial readjustment it necessitated.  He had always declared himself able to cope with any crisis if Undine and her mother would “go steady”; but he now warned them of his inability to keep up with the new pace they had set.  Undine, not deigning to return to the charge, had commissioned her mother to speak for her; and Mr. Spragg was surprised to meet in his wife a firmness as inflexible as his daughter’s.

“I can’t do it, Loot—­can’t put my hand on the cash,” he had protested; but Mrs. Spragg fought him inch by inch, her back to the wall—­flinging out at last, as he pressed her closer:  “Well, if you want to know, she’s seen Elmer.”

The bolt reached its mark, and her husband turned an agitated face on her.

“Elmer?  What on earth—­he didn’t come here?”

“No; but he sat next to her the other night at the theatre, and she’s wild with us for not having warned her.”

Mr. Spragg’s scowl drew his projecting brows together.  “Warned her of what?  What’s Elmer to her?  Why’s she afraid of Elmer Moffatt?”

“She’s afraid of his talking.”

“Talking?  What on earth can he say that’ll hurt her?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Mrs. Spragg wailed.  “She’s so nervous I can hardly get a word out of her.”

Mr. Spragg’s whitening face showed the touch of a new fear.  “Is she afraid he’ll get round her again—­make up to her?  Is that what she means by ’talking’?” “I don’t know, I don’t know.  I only know she is afraid—­she’s afraid as death of him.”

For a long interval they sat silently looking at each other while their heavy eyes exchanged conjectures:  then Mr. Spragg rose from his chair, saying, as he took up his hat:  “Don’t you fret, Leota; I’ll see what I can do.”

He had been “seeing” now for an arduous fortnight; and the strain on his vision had resulted in a state of tension such as he had not undergone since the epic days of the Pure Water Move at Apex.  It was not his habit to impart his fears to Mrs. Spragg and Undine, and they continued the bridal preparations, secure in their invariable experience that, once “father” had been convinced of the impossibility of evading their demands, he might be trusted to satisfy them by means with which his womenkind need not concern themselves.  Mr. Spragg, as he approached his office on the morning in question, felt reasonably sure of fulfilling these expectations; but he reflected that a few more such victories would mean disaster.