CHAPTER XLIII.

THE CIRCUMVENTION OF AUNTIE.

Sadie sat up with a start and rubbed her eyes.

"All right, Nanette," she said sleepily. "I'm awake."

The trim, rosy-cheeked maid smiled and swiftly left the room.

She had deposited one armful of fluffy things on a chair beside

Sadie's bed and another armful of fluffy things on a chair beside

Helen's bed. She had also performed other mysterious little offices

noiselessly before going to the side of Sadie's bed.

"And sleeping like an innocent babe," said the comely Nanette to

herself with a depth of affection in her tone. Then she bent down and

called in Sadie's ear:

"Ten o'clock, Miss Sadie."

She had to repeat the whispered call several times before Sadie's

eyelids fluttered and she stirred into life. The maid had vanished by

the time the younger of the two sleeping beauties had removed the

cobwebs from her eyes.

The twin rosewood beds lay side by side enveloped by the transparent

silken hangings of a single canopy. The room was exquisitely done in

pink and everywhere were evidences that the two lucky mortals who

slumbered therein were coddled and pampered to the limit of modern

luxury.

Sadie's robe de nuit, as the fashion magazines put it, was a creation

of laces and ribbons and mighty becoming. She had admitted this to

herself as she surveyed her reflection in the tall oval mirror only

five hours before. She admitted it again as she hopped out of bed and

confronted herself in the same mirror. Then she turned and ran quickly

to the side of Helen's bed.

She bent down and kissed her cousin.

"Get up, Helen," Sadie urged, as the blue eyes reluctantly opened.

"Get up and dress, dear--we haven't much time."

"Much time for what?" asked Helen, sitting up and going through the

ceremony of rubbing her eyes.

"Much time before Auntie wakes."

A roseate blush spread up from the ribbons at Sadie's throat to the

roots of her fair hair.

Helen's eyes were wide open now and she looked at her cousin in

frowning puzzlement.

"And Mr. Hogg is expected," said Sadie, with swift inspiration.

"Whatever are you driving at?" asked Helen.

"Are you anxious to greet Mr. Hogg?" pouted Sadie.

"No," was the vehement response.

"Then we must be out when he comes--and I have an important engagement

at eleven."

Helen shot two little pink feet out of the covers and planked them

down on the velvety rug.

"Whom have you an engagement with, Sadie Burton?" she asked, with

breathless eagerness.

"I have an engagement to elope!"

This time Sadie turned her head to hide her blushes.

Helen seemed actually paralyzed. There was an intense pause before

Sadie wheeled round, flung her head defiantly and said with more fire

than she had ever in her life displayed:

"With Mr. Whitney Barnes--and you are going to assist me--you and Mr.

Gladwin."

"You--cannot--be--serious, Sadie?" said the older cousin, slowly.

"I am, though!" was the passionate rejoinder. "Nanette and I packed my

steamer trunk after you and Auntie went to bed. Hurry now, Helen,

dear, for we must be at the Little Church Around the Corner at eleven

o'clock. I am going to wear my gray travelling dress and you your

brown."

"Why, you dreadful little minx, you!" cried Helen. "If you are poking

fun at me I will never forgive you."

"I am not poking fun," retorted Sadie with the same ardor and almost

in tears. "It is all planned and arranged. Whitney promised to have

everything ready at the church, including Travers Gladwin. He said he

couldn't wait another minute after eleven o'clock--that the suspense

would kill him--and he was so terribly in earnest about it that I

believe him."

"You goose!" exclaimed Helen, but now she was smiling and there was a

happy light in her eyes.

"Do you mean to tell me, Sadie Burton," she added, "that you fell in

love with that young man in a few hours--_you_, the man-hater!"

"Y-y-yes," admitted Sadie, her cheeks again on fire.

"And a man you don't know anything about--a perfect stranger!"

This brought the fire into the timid miss's eyes and she returned

warmly:

"I know everything about him, Helen Burton--his whole family history,

and he is only obeying orders in rushing the ceremony."

"Obeying orders?"

"Yes, his father commanded him to marry me at once--and if he doesn't

obey he will be disinherited and have to become a plumber or something

to make a living. His father is Joshua Barnes, the mustard king--you

must have heard of him. When I told Auntie who he was she almost

collapsed and said something about Joshua Barnes buying and selling

twenty hogs--I suppose she meant Jabez Hogg."

"Why, I never heard of such a thing, Sadie. Mr. Barnes could not have

been serious. His father never saw you in his life."

"Oh, but he telephoned his father all about it before he proposed to

me. He was sure I would say yes. He is a wonderful mind-reader and

believes in mysteries and Fate. He said the minute he saw me he knew I

was his Fate."

Once more the modest Sadie was in a state bordering on conflagration.

Helen's eye sobered as she looked at and beyond Sadie.

"That was the very thing Travers Gladwin--I mean the real one--said to

me," she mused.

"He did!"

"Yes, and the way things have turned out it would seem"----

Helen stopped and covered her face with her hands. Sadie ran to her

and put her arms about her.

"You are going to help us, aren't you, Helen dear?" said Sadie,

tremulously. "I would tell Auntie about it only she would want a

tremendous wedding and all that. Whitney and I both hate big weddings.

I am too timid and he is too nervous--says he might swallow the ring

and choke to death. You will now, Helen darling?"

There was a little sob in Sadie's voice and Helen surrendered.

"You are doing a very rash thing, Sadie," Helen lectured, striving

to draw her brows into an expression of impressive solemnity. "My

own terrible experience should have been a lesson to you--a

warning--a"----

"But it was Whitney Barnes who saved you, Helen!" cried Sadie,

exultantly. "You owe it all to him and that is why I began to love

him!"

"Nonsense!" retorted Helen sharply. "Mr. Barnes had nothing whatever

to do with it. All he did was to get himself handcuffed and run about

absurdly trying to be unlocked."

"But he was on watch and planned and planned," Sadie defended her

hero.

"Sadie Burton, I say that Whitney Barnes had nothing whatever to do

with it. He was merely an instrument. Travers Gladwin did it all. I

owe everything to him--_everything_! He would have gone to jail for

me, sacrificed all his wonderful paintings--oh, Sadie, it was

wonderful of him!"

It was Sadie who was thunderstruck now by the ardor in her cousin's

voice. Her amazement soon gave way to a beaming smile, and she mumbled

as she turned to her dressing table, "I do believe she is in love with

him."