Augusta turned to look gravely up at him. It was a new and strange Wardwell this, serious and humble. He was so downright and simple, so clear in his boyish honesty; she had not the slightest question. He meant just what he said. He wanted her. She reached up quietly and, taking his big blond face in her little hands, kissed him deliberately on the lips. Wardwell was astonished, frightened almost, by the steady, instant decision of the girl's way. He had expected to plead, to reason, to argue her into giving way to him--while all the time he would be doubting whether it was right. But she had taken decision out of her own wise heart. And Jimmy Wardwell had never again a thought but that it was the right decision. They stood a little while clinging to each other, entirely untroubled by any part of the world that might be looking on or interesting itself. Then Wardwell began to count the practical things. "We'll have to see your priest, I suppose that's the first thing." "Yes, Fr. Davis. But he will know that I am right," she answered easily. "Maybe he will have to go to the Cardinal's. But he will know that it's for Mamma. He knows her so well, and how good she's always been to everybody. He would do anything for her, I know he will." At the ferry house Wardwell announced that they would ride across town in a taxicab. "I'm on my way to be married," he proclaimed to the general world. "I've got to start right." The strain of the weeks seemed to have lifted from him. And although he knew that there were difficulties ahead, he was in the mood to consider them all met and vanquished. He was, in fact, Wardwell himself again. Augusta saw the mood, knew that his feeling was largely intended to make a hard place easy for her, and she was willing to fall in with it, to a certain extent. "You musn't spend all of your two dollars, Jimmie. You know you'll have a lot of expenses." "Who said two dollars? I've got more than two dollars. I've got investments, mining stocks, real wealth. I've got friends--I can borrow, potential wealth. I've got a headful of jokes, and jokes without heads, or tails; all wealth. And, if all these will not suffice, I've got--_a dress suit!_" he wound up in a hoarse dramatic whisper, looking warily around to see that his admission was not caught by any who might have avaricious designs toward the suit. "Yes, but you'll need the dress suit." "Not at all," he contended furiously. "We'll be married early in the morning, when I couldn't possibly wear the thing. I wouldn't feel respectable." "I insist on the dress suit," Augusta said firmly. "So, come,"--she was leading him towards the cross-town car--, "I'll pay the fares, so you can save the whole two dollars for some mighty extravagance." "I suppose you're beginning the tyranny. But I haven't got the will to resist. This is married life, I suppose," he grumbled as he followed her to the car.