He caught at that hope. "But, sweetheart, you'd be--poor."
"I'd have you."
"I couldn't take you to our old house. It--belongs to Mary. Father
knew that Constance was to be married, so he tried to provide for Mary
until she married; after that the property will be divided between the
two girls. He felt that I was a man, and he spent what money he had
for me on my education."
"I don't want to live in Mary's house. We could live with Dad."
"No," sharply. Barry had been hurt when the General had seemed to
agree so entirely with Gordon. He had expected the offer of a place in
the General's office, and it had not come.
"If we marry, darling," he said, "we must go it alone. I won't be
dependent on any one."
"We could have a little apartment," her eyes were shining, "and Dad
would furnish it for us, and Susan Jenks could teach me to cook and she
could tell me your favorite things, and we'd have them, and it would be
like a story book. Barry, please."
He, too, thought it would be like a story book. Other people had done
such things and had been happy. And once at the head of his own
household he would show them that he was a man.
Yet he tried to put her away from him. "I must not. It wouldn't be
right."
But as the days went on, and the time before his departure grew short,
he began to ask himself, "Why not?"
And it was thus, with Romance in the lead, with Love urging them on,
and with Ignorance and Innocence and Impetuosity hand in hand, that, at
last, in the madness of a certain March moon, Leila and Barry ran away.
Leila had a friend in Rockville--an old school friend whom she often
visited. Barry knew Montgomery County from end to end. He had fished
and hunted in its streams, he had motored over its roads, he had danced
and dined at its country houses, he had golfed at its country clubs, he
had slept at its inns and worshiped in its churches.
So it was to Montgomery County and its county seat that they looked for
their Gretna Green, and one night Leila kissed her father wistfully,
and told him that she was going to see Elizabeth Dean.
"Just for Saturday, Dad. I'll go Friday night, and come back in time
for dinner Saturday."
"Why not motor out?"