Edith made no comment but her gaze never left Cosden's face. His confusion was genuine, for to be made a hero in the midst of one's friends is more than any man can stand. Marian hastened to his rescue. "I shall tell Mr. Cosden what I think of him when we are alone," she said gratefully. "Now let us turn from the worship of Midas to that of a coy little divinity who may yet teach Edith to speak in words of one syllable. Harry says that I am to have the last word. It shall be brief: Mr. and Mrs. Henry Thatcher announce the engagement of their only daughter to--Mr. William Montgomery Huntington." The effect of this announcement was even more dramatic than the first. "You sly old dog!" Cosden cried, reaching over and pummeling Huntington on the back. "Great work!" was Philip's congratulation, but he subsided when he saw the expression on Billy's face. It was epoch-making, as Thatcher had promised. The relief over the happy solution of the business crisis, and the surprise and joy of the announced engagement made the dinner pass from an episode into an event. Billy's lack of enthusiasm might be easily understood and as easily forgiven, but Edith's subdued attitude was less comprehensible. It was only as they left the table to go out upon the piazza that she broke her silence. She held back after Marian and Merry passed through the door and turned to Cosden. "Did you really do that?" she demanded. He nodded his head sheepishly. "You see, as Monty says, I'm no kind of business man after all." "I think you're the greatest business genius in the world!" "You do!" he cried. "Then why don't you follow Merry's example?" "I might," she said smiling. * * * * * XXXIX * * * * * Huntington dared not extend his visit beyond a few blissful days, but into these he crowded the full expression of his long-delayed romance. The wonder of it never left him, the joy of it filled him with quiet content. The lovers watched Cosden's departure next morning, and by virtue of the priority of their engagement, considered themselves entitled to tease Edith who was not to leave until the following day. "Well," Huntington remarked, as they turned back into the hallway, "as Connie says, he usually gets what he goes after." "Don't you think he's earned me?" Edith retaliated. "And you him," Huntington retorted. "Everything is as it should be. You are just the girl for him, and he will make you a husband in a thousand. I need not tell you how cordially I have congratulated him." "I don't think our Society proved very effective," she remarked dryly. "On the contrary, it demonstrated its efficiency by the present most satisfactory exceptions.--But you are giving me a great many mysteries to explain to Merry!" The evening before Huntington felt it necessary to return to his patient he touched upon a subject which had been avoided. "Mamma," he said to Mrs. Thatcher, "I think--"