“Yes, I’ll tell you,” he answered. “Just one thing.” She pressed his arm gratefully. “I’ll have a telegram sent you to-morrow. It will be urgent enough, though not too serious. You will just bundle up and depart with Lute.”

“Is that all?” she faltered.

“It will be a great favor.”

“You won’t talk with me?” she protested, quivering under the rebuff.

“I’ll have the telegram come so as to rout you out of bed. And now never mind Alden Bessie. You run a long in. Good night.”

He kissed her, gently thrust her toward the house, and went on his way.