“I—­I can’t thank you enough.”

“Report for work day after to-morrow, then.  You’re a man out of a job.  You can’t afford honeymoons.  I’ll let you have the day off to-morrow, but next morning you be in my office when the whistle blows.  I always am.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where are you going to live?  Got any money?”

“I don’t know where we shall live.  Maybe we’d better find a place to board for a while.  I’ve got a hundred dollars or so.”

“Board!...Huh!  Nobody’s got any business boarding when they’re married.  Wife has too much time on her hands.  Nothing to do.  Especially at the start of things your wife’ll need to be busy.  Keep her from getting notions. ...I’ll bet the percentage of divorces among folks that board is double that it is among folks that keep house.  Bound to be. ...You get you a decent flat and furnish it.  Right off.  After you get married you and your wife pick out the furniture.  That’s what I’m giving you the day off to-morrow for.  You can furnish a little flat—­the kind you can afford, for five hundred dollars. ...  You’re not a millionaire now.  You’re a young fellow with a fair job and a moderate salary that you’ve got to live on. ...Better let your wife handle it.  She’s used to it and you’re not.  She’ll make one dollar go as far as you would make ten.”

“Yes, sir.”

Lightener moved awkwardly and showed signs of embarrassment.  “And listen here,” he said, gruffly, “a young girl’s a pretty sweet and delicate piece of business.  They’re mighty easy to hurt, and the hurt lasts a long time. ...You want to be married a long time, I expect, and you want your wife to—­er—­love you right on along.  Well, be darn careful, young fellow.  Start the thing right.  More marriages are smashed in the first few days than in the next twenty years. ...You be damn gentle and considerate of that little girl.”

“I—­I hope I shall, Mr. Lightener.”

“You’d better be. ...Where you going to-night?”

“To the club.  I have some things there.  I’ve always kept enough clothes there to get along on.”

“Your club days are over for some time.  Married man has no business with a club till he’s forty. ...Evenings, anyhow.  Stay at home with your wife.  How’d you like to have her running out to some darn thing three or four nights a week?...Go on, now.  I’ll tell Hilda where you are.  Probably she’ll want to call you up in the morning. ...Good night.”

“Good night...and thank you.”

“Huh!” said Malcolm Lightener, and without paying the slightest bit of attention to whether Bonbright stayed or went away, he took up the papers on his desk and lost himself in the figures that covered them.  Bonbright went out quietly, thankfully, his heart glad with its own song. ...The future was settled; safe.  He had nothing to fear.  And to-morrow he was going to enter into a land of great happiness.  He felt he was entering a land of fulfillment.  That is the way with the very young.  They enter upon marriage feeling it is a sort of haven of perpetual bliss, that it marks the end of unhappiness, of difficulties, of loneliness, of griefs...when, in reality, it is but the beginning of life with all the diverse elements of joy and grief and anxiety and comfort and peace and discord that life is capable of holding. ...