"With yourself," he said, and picked up his hat and went out. IV Russell and I eloped on a Friday morning. Mother and I packed my dressing case and a bag, and I gave her an itemized list of what was to be sent on in my trunk when I wired for it. She was greatly relieved to know that Henry was looking after things, especially the ring. "I do hope he gets a narrow one," she said. "Wedding rings are nonsense at any time. You can never wear other rings with them. But if it is platinum you can have it set with diamonds later on." I think she was disappointed when I refused to leave a note on my dressing table for her. "That's out of date, mother," I said. "You needn't know anything until you get my wire that it's over. Then you can call up the newspapers and deny it. That's the best way to let them know." Then she went out, per agreement, after kissing me good-by, and I called a taxicab and eloped. Did you ever have a day when things went wrong with you and when you knew that the fault was somewhere in you? Well, that was that sort of day. The minute I was in the taxicab I was uncomfortable. All at once I didn't want to be married. I hoped Russell would miss the train, and I could go back home and be a spinster lady and be on committees. But he did not miss the train. He was there, waiting. He had on a very ugly necktie and an English ulster that made his chest dish in, although he has a good figure. "Hello, girlie," he said. "Stuff all here? Any excitement at home? No? Nice work." My lips felt stiff. "Train's waiting," he said. "What do you think of Henry? Big lift, that is. I've never been married before. I'm fairly twittering." We got into the train. There was no Pullman. Not that it mattered, but it helped to upset me. I hated eloping in a day coach. And a woman with a market basket sat across the aisle, and the legs of a chicken stuck out. Russell squeezed into the seat beside me. "Jove, this is great!" he said. "Aren't you going to put your hand in my coat pocket, honey?" Quite suddenly I said: "I don't want to." He drew away a trifle. "You're nervous," he said. "So am I, for that matter. D'you mind if I go and smoke?" I didn't mind. I thought if I had to see that ulster dishing in and that tie another minute I'd go crazy. I grew calmer when he had gone. Here was the thing I had worked so hard for, mine at last. I thought of Toots, and her face when she saw the papers. I thought of Ellie Clavering and Bessie Willing and Margaret North and the others, with their earrings and the imitation of Toots and all the rest of it. I felt rather better. When Russell came back I could even smile at him. "I wish I could have a cigarette," I said. He turned and put a hand over mine. "You're going to cut that out, you know, girlie," he said. "I can't have my wife smoking."