“Oh, David,” the buoyant voice dropped to a reverent whisper.  “I love you,—­I love you,—­I—­I am just crazy about you.”

“Careful, Carol, remember the manse,” he cautioned gaily.

“But this is honeymooning, and the manse hasn’t gloomed on my horizon yet.  I’ll be careful when I get installed.  I am really a Methodist yet, and Methodists are expected to shout and be enthusiastic.  When we move into our manse, and the honeymoon is ended, I’ll just say, ’I am very fond of you, Mr. Duke.’” The voice lengthened into prim and prosy solemnity.

“But our honeymoon isn’t to end.  Didn’t we promise that it should last forever?”

“Of course it will.”  She dimpled up at him, snuggling herself in the arm that still encircled her shoulders.  “Of course it will.”  She balanced her racquet on the top of his head as he bent adoringly over her.  “Of course it will,—­unless your grim old Presbyterians manse all the life out of me.”

“If it ever begins, tell me,” he begged, “and we’ll join the Salvation Army.  There’s life enough even for you.”

“I beat you,” she teased, irrelevantly.  “I am surprised,—­a great big man like you.”

“And to-morrow we’ll be in St. Louis.”

“Yes,” she assented, weakening swiftly.  “And the mansers will have me in their deadly clutch.”

“The only manser who will clutch you is myself.”  He drew her closer in his arm as he spoke.  “And you like it.”

“Yes, I love it.  And I like the mansers already.  I hope they like me.  I am improving, you know.  I am getting more dignified every day.  Maybe they will think I am a born Presbyterian if you don’t give me away.  Have you noticed how serious I am getting?” She pinched thoughtfully at his chin.  “David Duke, we have been married two whole weeks, and it is the most delicious, and breathless, and amazing thing in the world.  It is life—­real life—­all there is to life, really, isn’t it?”

“Yes, life is love, they say, so this is life.  All the future must be like this.”

“I never particularly yearned to be dead,” she said, wrinkling her brows thoughtfully, “but I never even dreamed that I could be so happy.  I am awfully glad I didn’t die before I found it out.”

“You are happy, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

She turned herself slowly in his arm and lifted puckering lips to his.

“Hey, wake up, are you playing tennis, or staging Shakespeare?  We want the court if you don’t need it.”

Mr. and Mrs. Duke, honeymooners, gazed speechlessly at the group of young men standing motionless forty feet away, then Carol wheeled about and ran swiftly across the velvety grass, over the hill and out of sight, her husband in close pursuit.

Once she paused.

“If the mansers could have seen us then!” she ejaculated, with awe in her voice.

CHAPTER II