"Where are we?" asked Juliet's voice. "This is a private house. I thought we--Why, Tony--do you see?--We've come around in a circle instead of going on to that little inn you spoke of. This is--_home_!" "Is it?" said Anthony's voice in a tone of great surprise. "So it is!" He leaped out and came around to Juliet's side. "What a fluke!" But the happy laugh in his voice betrayed him. "Anthony Robeson," cried Juliet softly, "you need not pretend to be surprised. You meant to do it." "Did I?" He reached out both arms to take her down. "Perhaps I did. Do you mind--Mrs. Robeson? Shall we go on?" Juliet looked down at him. "No, I don't think I mind," she said. He swung her down, and they went slowly up the walk. "Somehow," said Anthony Robeson, looking up at the house, lying as if asleep in the September night, "when I thought of taking you to that little public inn, and then remembered that we might have this instead--We can go on with our wedding journey to-morrow, dear-but--to-night----" He led her silently upon the porch. He found the key, where in jest he had bade his best man put it, and unlocked the door and threw it open. He stepped first upon the threshold, and, turning, held out his arms. "Come," he said, smiling in the darkness. XI.--A BACHELOR AT DINNER "Hallo there--Anthony Robeson--don't be in such a hurry you can't notice a fellow." The big figure rushing through the snow paused, wheeled, and thrust out a hand of hearty greeting. "That you, Carey? Hat over your eyes like a train robber--electric lights all behind you--and you expect me to smile at you as I go by! How are you? How's Judith?" "Infernally lonely--I mean I am--Judith's off on a visit to her mother. Say, Tony--take me home with you--will you? I want some decent things to eat, so I'm holding you up on purpose." "Good--come on. Train goes in a few minutes. Juliet will be delighted." The two hurried on together into the station from which the suburban trains were constantly leaving. As they entered they encountered a mutual friend, at whom both flung themselves enthusiastically with alternate greetings: "Roger Barnes----" "Roger--old fellow--glad to see you back!" "Patient safely landed?" "Get a big fee?" "Where you going?" "Let's take him home with us, Tony----" The third man looked smiling at Tony. "I'll challenge you to," said he. "That's easy--come on," responded Anthony Robeson with cordiality. "I'll just telephone Mrs. Robeson." "That's it," said Dr. Roger Barnes. "You don't dare not to. I understand. Go ahead. But if she's too much dashed let me know, will you?" Anthony turned, laughing, into a telephone closet, from which he emerged in time to catch his train with his guests.