And say! Talk about your long shots! As we piles out what should I see but the carrotty topped night hawk that'd had Rossy and me for fares earlier in the evenin'. "You're a winner," says I to the old man. "It's a case of waitin' at the church. Ten to one you'll find Rossiter inside." It was a cinch. Rossy was the first one we saw as we got into the anteroom. It wa'n't what you'd call a real affectionate meetin'. The old man steps up and eyes him for a minute, like a dyspeptic lookin' at a piece of overdone steak in a restaurant, and then he remarks: "What blasted nonsense is this, sir?" "Why," says Rossy, shiftin' from one foot to the other, and grinnin' foolisher'n I ever saw him grin before--"why, I just thought I'd get married, that's all." "That's all, eh?" says the old man, and you could have filed a saw with his voice. "Sort of a happy inspiration of the moment, was it?" "Well," says Rossy, "not--not exactly that. I'd been thinking of it for some time, sir." "The deuce you say!" says the old man. "I--I didn't think you'd object," says Rossy. "Wow!" says the old man. He'd been holdin' in a long spell, for him, but then he just boiled over. "See here, you young rascal!" says he. "What do you mean by talking that way to me? Didn't think I'd object! D'ye suppose I'm anxious to have all New York know that my son's been made a fool of? Think your mother and I are aching to have one of these bleached hair chorus girls in the family? Got her inside there, have you?" "Yes, sir," says Rossy. "Well, bring her out here!" says the old man. "I've got something to say to her." "All right, sir," says Rossy. If there ever was a time for throwin' the hooks into a parent, it was then. But he's as good humoured and quiet about it as though he'd just been handed a piece of peach pie. "I'll bring her right out," says he. When he comes in with the lady, the old man takes one look at her and almost loses his breath for good. "Eunice May Ogden!" says he. "Why--why on earth didn't you say so before, Rossy?" "Oh, hush!" says the lady. "Do be still! Can't you see that we're right in the middle of an elopement?" Never saw Eunice May, did you? Well, that's what you miss by not travellin' around with the swells, same as me. I had seen her. And say, she's somethin' of a sight, too! She's a prize pumpkin, Eunice is. Maybe she's some less'n seven feet in her lisle threads, but she looks every inch of it; and when it comes to curves, she has Lillian Russell pared to a lamp post. She'd be a good enough looker if she wa'n't such a whale. As twins, she'd be a pair of beauts, but the way she stands, she's most too much of a good thing.