“That day Kirke and I had a confidential conversation.  ’Connie Starr, I believe I am half a preacher right now.  You marry me, and I will study for the ministry.’

“‘Kirke Connor,’ I said, ’if any fraction of you is a minister, it isn’t on speaking terms with the rest of you.  That’s certain.  And I wouldn’t marry you if you were a whole Conference.  And I don’t want to marry a preacher of all people.  And anyhow I am not going to get married at all.’

“At breakfast the next morning father said, ’I believe Kirke Connor is headed straight, for good and all.  Now if some nice girl could just marry him he would be safe enough.’

“Aunt Grace looked at him warningly.  ’But of course no nice girl could do it, yet,’ she interposed quickly.  ’It wouldn’t be safe.  He can’t marry until he is sure of himself.’

“‘Oh, I don’t know,’ I said thoughtfully.  ’Provided the girl were clever as well as nice, she could handle Kirke easily.  Now I may not be the nicest girl in the world, but no one can deny that I am clever.’

“Father swallowed helplessly.  Then he rallied.  ’By the way, Connie, won’t you come down to Burlington with me for a couple of days?  I have a lot of work to do there, and we can have a nice little honeymoon all by ourselves.  What do you say?’

“’Oh, thank you, father, that is lovely.  Let’s go on the noon train, shall we?  I can be ready.’

“‘All right, just fine.’  He flashed a triumphant glance at Aunt Grace and she dimpled her approval.

“‘Now don’t tell any one we are going, father,’ I cautioned him.  ’I want to surprise Kirke Connor.  He is going to Burlington on that train himself, and it will be such a joke on him to find us there ready to be entertained.  He is to be there several days, so he can amuse me while you are busy.  Isn’t it lovely?  He really needs a little boosting now, and it is our duty, and—­will you press my suit, Auntie?  I must fly or I won’t be ready.’

“Aunt Grace looked reproachfully at father, and father looked despairingly at Aunt Grace.  But we had a splendid time in Burlington, the three of us, for father never did one second’s work all the time, he was so deathly afraid to leave me alone with Kirke.

“Isn’t it lots of fun to be alive, Carol?  So many thrilling and interesting and happy things come up every day,—­I love to dig in and work hard, and how I love to drop my work at five thirty and run home and doll up, and play, and flirt—­just nice, harmless flirting,—­and sing, and talk,—­really, it is a darling little old world, isn’t it?

“Oh, and by the way, Carol, when you want a divorce just write me about it.  Mr. Nesbitt and I specialize on divorces, and I can do the whole thing myself and save you lots of trouble.  Just tell me when, and I will furnish your motive.

“Lovingly as always,

“Connie.”

CHAPTER VI