"No, mam!--what I want is a kiss!" "S'pose we kiss each other--dear?" "All right here goes," and with that Updyke took her bodily into his arms and held her there until the moon lady looked down and laughed at them. And when all was said, and the gardens of their two hearts had been merged into one, Updyke suddenly recollected the seats he had engaged on the Swathmere roof. "I am hungry, Mary. Shall we jog along back?" he asked meekly, as if taking orders for the first time in his life. "I could stay here forever," said she, putting her lips up to be kissed. "Let's get married to-night," suggested Updyke, his eyes aflame. "No, sir! with one good dress to my name--Never!" exclaimed the girl. "Well, you hurry up those dresses. Your pay is raised one thousand dollars. Draw it to-morrow and go up the line. You ought to get a couple of 'em for that," said he, grinning. "Thanks for the raise, dear, but I'll buy my own wedding clothes. I haven't thrown my earnings away. How about that little dinner at the----" "Nuff said," replied Updyke, "but you just keep those arms about me while I do the driving. They don't seem to bother me," said he, chuckling down in her pretty face. At the Swathmere two tall hatted porters ran out to the car, and with much ado landed the guests under the canopied entrance, where they were met by the captain and escorted up-top to the table that Updyke had engaged. "Does you know who that big fellow is?" inquired one porter of the other. "I don't reckon I does. He don't look good to me, nohow!" was the answer. "Well, be ca'ful of yo' step when you see him edgin' yo' way!" warned the other. "He's de bigges' ov 'em all--gits 'um goin'--and gits 'um comin'--is you guilty?--den kiss yo' baby good-by!" CHAPTER XVIII. FLIGHT OF A SOUL Beautiful Dreamy Hollow, peaceful, charming--with the master always on hand. No longer in business he lived in a dreamland and never looked out except toward the sea. Alone, he lived in silence, with only the future state in mind. Alone!--not just that--for way up in the skies a sweet soul was waiting and beckoning to him. He could see her quite plainly as the veil lifted at night, and also, whenever he looked this way or that--those were terrible blows that the mad Parkins dealt! Only the strong of heart could have survived them and turned them to account--but Drury Villard, once the farseeing financier, only looked at the heavens and bided his time. Things earthly were now forgotten, and old friends forsaken, not with malice aforethought, but because of a tiny link missing--the mischief of a dreadful night.