"Heavens!" I muttered, sitting up in my bunk, "is it as late as that! Where are we?" I slid up the window-shade and sat blinking at a flood of sunshine. "Telegram?" I said, yawning and rubbing my eyes. "Let me have it. All right, I'll be out presently. Shut that curtain! I don't want the entire car to criticise my pink pajamas!" "Ain' nobody in de cyar, 'scusin yo'se'f, suh," grinned the porter, retiring. I heard him, but did not comprehend, sitting there sleepily unfolding the scrawled telegram. Suddenly my eyes flew wide open; I scanned the despatch with stunned incredulity: "ATLANTA, GEORGIA. "We couldn't help it. Love at first sight. Married this morning in Atlanta. Wildly happy. Forgive. Wire blessing. "(Signed) HAROLD KENSETT, "HELEN BARRISON KENSETT." "Porter!" I shouted. "Porter! Help!" There was no response. "Oh, Lord!" I groaned, and rolled over, burying my head in the blankets; for I understood at last that Science, the most jealous, most exacting of mistresses, could never brook a rival. THE END * * * * * +--------------------------------------------------------------+ | Typographical errors corrected in text: | | | | Page 86: beautful replaced with beautiful | | Page 180: Magazin replaced with Magazine | | Page 206: sun-sorched replaced with sun-scorched | | | +--------------------------------------------------------------+ * * * * * End of Project Gutenberg's In Search of the Unknown, by Robert W. Chambers