It mattered little that
she repeated herself monotonously in regard to the state of health of
herself and Tootles. Roxbury would doubtless enjoy the protracted
happiness brought on by these despatches, even though they got him out
of bed or missed him altogether until they reached him in a bunch the
next day. He may also have been gratified to hear from Munich that
Roxbury was perfectly lovely. She said, in the course of her longest
despatch, that she was so glad that the baby was getting to like her
father more and more as the day wore on.
At one station Brock narrowly escaped missing the train. He swung
himself aboard as the cars were rolling out of the sheds. As he sank,
hot and exhausted, into the seat opposite his wife and her sister, the
former looked up from her book, yawning ever so faintly, and asked:
"Are you enjoying your honeymoon, Roxbury?"
"Immensely!" he exclaimed, but not until he had searched for and caught
Connie's truant gaze. "Aren't we?" he asked of Miss Fowler, his eyes
dancing. She smiled encouragingly.
"I think you are such a nice man to have about," commented Mrs.
Medcroft, this time yawning freely and stretching her fine young arms in
the luxury of home contentment.
Brock went to bed early, in Vienna that night--tired but happy, caring
not what the morrow brought forth so long as it continued to provide him
with a sister-in-law and a wife who was devoted--to another man.
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