“The rest of you men may feel a debt to Mrs. Larry for leading your wives to the well of thrift, but my debt is one that can not be voiced in mere words. Mrs. Larry has made it possible for me to claim the greatest happiness within the reach of man. Claire and I were married this afternoon in the Little Church Around the Corner. Mrs. Larry, all unknowingly, has supplied our wedding feast.” On the amazed silence which followed this unexpected announcement, Mrs. Larry sprang to her feet, flashed round the table and clasped Claire in her arms. “Oh, my dear--my dear--” was all she could say. “And I expected to be matron of honor!” “And so you should have been, if you hadn’t been so busy with this dinner,” whispered Claire. “I hadn’t the heart to interrupt--and it was all so sudden. Why should we ask mother, who did not entirely approve, to have a gorgeous wedding that we did not want? And why should I ask my lonely man to wait when in all things essential I was prepared?” “Well,” exclaimed Mr. Larry, his hand gripping that of Jimmy Graves, “who would expect adventures in thrift to lead to the altar--where they usually start?” “I think,” said Teresa Moore very gently, “that Claire has chosen the better way--she has learned first. She takes no chance with love.” THE END [Transcriber’s Note: Obvious printer errors corrected silently. Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation are as in the original.] End of Project Gutenberg's Adventures in Thrift, by Anna Steese Richardson