"Mrs. Jones will be down in a minute," he announced, and was going to say more, but the sight of Margaret locked close in Lemuel Townsend's dignified arms permitted him no further expression than a prolonged and astonished "Oh!" which wrought a quick parting of the loving couple, while Margaret, blushing furiously, hastened to explain: "Judge Townsend is my husband, Mr. Peters. We were married this afternoon." Peters had been having much of his own way since Mrs. Jones and Millie had retired from the actual management of the hotel, and his authority ran away with him at times, thrusting him into situations in which his assumption brought him quick rebuke. This was one of them. Obsequiously and with an easy laugh he extended a congratulatory hand to Townsend, while he remarked, "Quick work, eh, judge?" Townsend stood back and withered Peters with a glance that did its full duty from head to foot. Margaret, kind-hearted, and seeing Peters's embarrassment, hastened to be friendly. "We don't want you to say a word about it to anybody!" "Oh, I can keep a secret. My congratulations. I hope this one turns out better than the other one did," Peters effused. Margaret sighed. The judge shuddered. It was the fourth time since they were married that he had been reminded that he was number two. "If you don't mind," he ordered, severely, "we won't discuss that question." Margaret, anxious to prevent further repartee on the subject, went up-stairs, calling back, "When Mrs. Jones comes down, will you tell her I will be back in five minutes?" When she had disappeared Townsend ordered Peters to get up a special supper for four, suggesting that the champagne he had brought with him, and which was in the basket on the floor, be put on ice. Peters disappeared to do his duty, but Townsend followed close behind him, desirous of directing the spreading of a good wedding supper for Mrs. Townsend, Mrs. Jones, and Millie. He had been gone but a few minutes when Mrs. Jones came down the stairs. She looked around, expecting to find Margaret Davis awaiting her. Not seeing her, she returned to the floor above, when Mr. and Mrs. Harper came bursting in. "How do you do? Don't you remember us?" Harper called out, as he held forth a welcoming hand. "Surely!" cried Mrs. Jones. She came quickly down the stairs and shook hands with Harper, kissing his pretty wife. "We just brought your husband and a friend of his over from Reno," said Harper. "Oh, where are they?" Mrs. Jones asked, excitedly. She had been waiting all afternoon for Bill and was beginning to fear lest he had decided not to return home. "Oh, Bill's out there telling his experiences as a lawyer," Harper laughed, and Mrs. Jones joined him, happy to know that Bill was back, the same lovable old boaster as before. Margaret Townsend, hearing the voices, hurried to join the group, throwing her arms wildly around Mrs. Jones's neck and giggling like a school-girl.