"Is that you, Mother? This is Tryon. Are you all well? That's good. Yes, I'm in Chicago, but will soon be home. Mother, I've something to tell you that may startle you, though there is nothing to make you sad. You have known that there was something on my mind for some time." He paused for the murmur of assent. He knew how his mother was looking, even though he could not see her--that set look of being ready for anything. He wanted to spare her as much as possible, so he hastened on: "You remember speaking to me about the ring I wore?" "Tryon! Are you engaged?" There was a sharp anxiety in the tone as it came through the hundreds of miles of space. "One better, Mother. I'm just about to be married!" "My son! What have you done? Don't forget the honorable name you bear!" "No, Mother, I don't forget. She's fine and beautiful and sweet. You will love her, and our world will fall at her feet!" "But who is she? You must remember that love is very blind. Tryon, you must come home at once. I shall die if you disgrace us all. Don't do anything to spoil our lives. I know it is something dreadful, or you would not do it in such haste." "Nothing of the kind, Mother. Can't you trust me? Let me explain. She is alone, and legal circumstances which it would take too long for me to explain over the 'phone have made it desirable for her to have my immediate protection. We are going at once to Edwin Twinell's church, and he will marry us. It is all arranged, but I felt that you ought to be told beforehand. We shall probably take the night express for home. Tell Cornelia that I shall expect congratulations telegraphed to the hotel here inside of two hours." "But, Tryon, what will our friends think? It is most extraordinary! How can you manage about announcements?" "Bother the red tape, Mother! What difference does that make? Put it in the society column if you want to." "But, Tryon, we do not want to be conspicuous!" "Well, Mother, I'm not going to put off my wedding at the last minute for a matter of some bits of pasteboard. I'll do any reasonable thing to please you, but not that." "Couldn't you get a chaperon for her, and bring her on to me? Then we could plan the wedding at our leisure." "Impossible, Mother! In the first place, she never would consent. Really, I cannot talk any more about it. I must go at once, or I shall be late. Tell me you will love her for my sake, until you love her for her own." "Tryon, you always were unreasonable. Suppose you have the cards engraved at once, and I will telegraph our list to the engraver if you will give me his address. If you prefer, you can get them engraved and sent out from there. That will keep tongues still." "All right, I'll do it. I'll have the engraver telegraph his address to you within two hours. Have your list ready. And, Mother, don't worry. She's all right. You couldn't have chosen better yourself. Say you will love her, Mother dear."