"We can't begin this way," she laughed. "I love pretty things, and this is your first gift"--she kissed the solitaire--"but please don't give me anything more for a while. I'm not going to lecture you nor wear a long face nor find fault--ever--we're going to wear smiles while our experiment lasts. To-morrow is Sunday--will you take me somewhere?" "Will I?" Bob cried, in delight. "I'll hire a car and we'll motor up to Tuxedo. There's a dandy crowd out there. We'll take Adoree and the Immaculate Critic, and we'll have dinner at the club. Campbell can show the latest effects in negligees, and--" "That's too expensive; let's all go to Coney Island." "Coney? How do you get there?" "I don't know. Will you go?" "Certainly, if you want to! I dare say we'll meet some of the best steamfitters in the city. We'll patronize everything from the Mystic Maze to the Trained Fleas; we'll Bump the Bumps and you'll throw your arms around me and scream, and we'll look at the Incubator Babies and blush. I can't wait." Strangely enough, the news of Bob Wharton's marriage had not leaked into the papers up to this time, and Lorelei, having regard for the feelings of his parents, insisted that he help her to keep the matter secret as long as possible. Bob rebelled at first, for he adored publicity. He rejoiced in his newest exploit and desired his world to hear of it, while the prospect of further mortifying his father was so agreeable that it required much persuasion to make him relinquish it. With her own family Lorelei had less difficulty, for they were by no means eager to advertise their bad bargain and had withdrawn behind a stiff restraint, leaving the couple to their own devices. This attitude spared the bride much unpleasant notoriety, enabling her to pursue her work at the theater without comment. Bob's society proved in some ways a welcome change from the sordid drabness of her own relatives, for he was colorful, versatile, and nearly always good-humored. He kept Lorelei entertained, at least, and if at times he provoked her it was only as a mischievous boy tries the patience of a parent. He was weirdly prankish; serious happenings reacted strangely upon him. Misfortune aroused in him a wild hilarity; cares excited mirth. He bore his responsibilities lightly and displayed them to his friends with the same profound pride with which a small boy exhibits a collection of beetles, but they meant nothing more.