I went to Newport in July.  “The cottage,” as I suspected, was twice as large and twice as pretentious as the New York residence; and it sported twice the number of servants.  Once again I was caught in the whirl of dinners and dances and motoring, with the addition of tennis and bathing.  And always, at my side, was Jerry, seemingly living only upon my lightest whim and fancy.  He wished to paint my portrait; but there was no time, especially as my visit, in accordance with Mother’s inexorable decision, was of only one week’s duration.

But what a wonderful week that was!  I seemed to be under a kind of spell.  It was as if I were in a new world—­a world such as no one had ever been in before.  Oh, I knew, of course, that others had loved—­but not as we loved.  I was sure that no one had ever loved as we loved.  And it was so much more wonderful than anything I had ever dreamed of—­this love of ours.  Yet all my life since my early teens I had been thinking and planning and waiting for it—­love.  And now it had come—­the real thing.  The others—­all the others had been shams and make-believes and counterfeits.  To think that I ever thought those silly little episodes with Paul Mayhew and Freddy Small and Mr. Harold Hartshorn were love!  Absurd!  But now—­

And so I walked and moved and breathed in this spell that had been cast upon me; and thought—­little fool that I was!—­that never had there been before, nor could there be again, a love quite so wonderful as ours.

At Newport Jerry decided that he wanted to be married right away.  He didn’t want to wait two more endless years until I was graduated.  The idea of wasting all that valuable time when we might be together!  And when there was really no reason for it, either—­no reason at all!

I smiled to myself, even as I thrilled at his sweet insistence.  I was pretty sure I knew two reasons—­two very good reasons—­why I could not marry before graduation.  One reason was Father; the other reason was Mother.  I hinted as much.

“Ho!  Is that all?” He laughed and kissed me.  “I’ll run down and see them about it,” he said jauntily.

I smiled again.  I had no more idea that anything he could say would—­

But I didn’t know Jerry—­then.

I had not been home from Newport a week when Jerry kept his promise and “ran down.”  And he had not been there two days before Father and Mother admitted that, perhaps, after all, it would not be so bad an idea if I shouldn’t graduate, but should be married instead.

And so I was married.

(Didn’t I tell you that Jerry always brought his rings and put them on?)

And again I say, and so we were married.