This semi-promise was enough for Jimmie.  From that moment on he was a changed man and Virginia knew no peace.  He insisted that she was treating Stafford unfairly.  If she did not want to marry him she should say so, and if she did intend to marry him she should be willing to name the day.  As it was, she was standing in the way of her sister’s prosperity and happiness.  At the same time Fanny also added her powers of persuasion.  Between the two Virginia felt that she had not much will of her own left.

Thus the weeks passed, Stafford respectful and devoted, but daily growing more restive and impatient, urging his suit, refusing to be discouraged, waiting eagerly for the day when she would respond to his passionate pleading and throw herself without restraint into his arms.

Meantime Fanny and Jimmie, having arrived at the conclusion that the prospects were bright and that they had been engaged long enough, suddenly decided to get married.  Fourteen dollars a week—­the weekly income of the bridegroom—­did not allow of the setting up of a very elaborate establishment, but, as the clerk explained privately to his bride, it was only a question of time when Virginia would become Mrs. Stafford and then it would be smooth sailing for them all.  Stafford had promised him a fat job at a salary worth while, and that could not possibly mean less than fifty dollars a week.

“He wouldn’t have the cheek to offer me less than fifty per,” said Jimmie confidently.

All of which sounded very hopeful to Fanny, who, however, was shrewd enough to make no mention to her sensitive sister of her intended’s sanguine expectations.

They were married at the little Roman Catholic church in 125th Street, Virginia being the solitary bridesmaid, while Stafford—­willing enough to enter into the spirit of the occasion and taking a chance that in such a remote neighborhood no one would recognize him—­acted as best man.  The bride looked pretty and self-composed, while Jimmie was a picture of masculine magnificence in a new frock coat, patent-leather shoes, white tie, silk hat and a collar so high that he could not turn his head round.  After the ceremony, they all dined gaily at Claremont at Stafford’s expense and then the newly married couple left for Atlantic City, where the brief honeymoon was to be spent—­on slender savings which Fanny had carefully hoarded for some time.

Virginia cried bitterly as her sister drove away.  It was the first time that they had been separated; she felt as if she was losing the last friend she had in the world.  Stafford, full of kindly sympathy, tried to console her.  Gently he whispered: 

“Don’t cry, dear.  Don’t you see how happy she is?  You wouldn’t rob her of that happiness, would you?”

“No, indeed,” she sobbed.

He bent down closer and whispered: 

“One day—­she will be kissing her hand to you as you drive away in your bridal robes.”