Part 10 (1/2)

Mrs. Milo rose, taking a peep at the tiny watch hidden under the frill at a wrist. ”Susan,” she said sweetly, ”will you see what the florist is doing?”

”Oh, he's all right, mother dear. He----”

”Do you want your mother to do it?”

”Oh, no, mother. No.” All gauze and sheen, like a mammoth b.u.t.terfly, Sue hurried across the room.

”I must save my strength for tomorrow,” explained Mrs. Milo, and turned with that benevolent smile. The next moment she flung up her hands.

”Susan!”

Sue halted. ”Ah-ha-a-a-a!” she cried triumphantly. ”I thought it'd surprise you, mother! Isn't it lovely? Isn't it beautiful? Isn't it an improvement over that old gray satin of mine?” She came back to stroll to and fro, parading. ”As Ikey says, 'Ain't it peaches?'”

”Tum-tum-tee-tum,” hummed Balcome, in an attempt at the wedding-march.

”Susan! Stop!” ordered Mrs. Milo. ”Where, if you please, have you come by such a dress?”

Even Mrs. Balcome was listening, having forgotten her own troubles in the double interest of the promised quarrel and the attractive costume.

Sue arraigned Mr. Balcome with a finger. ”Well, this nice person told Hattie to order it for me from her dressmaker.”

”To land that parson,” added Balcome, wickedly.

”He gave me two,” went on Sue, turning a chin over one shoulder in a vain attempt to get a glimpse of her back. ”The other one is wonderful! I'm--I'm keeping the other one.”

”'Keeping the other one'?” repeated her mother.

Sue tried the other shoulder. ”Well, I--I might need it for something special,” she explained.

”Will you please stop that performance?” demanded her mother. ”My daughter, the dress is ridiculous!”

Sue stared. ”Ridiculous?”

”Showy--loud.”

”But--but it's my bridesmaid's dress.”

”I tell you, it's unsuited--a woman of forty-five! Please go and change.”

”Oh, come now,” put in Balcome, a little sharply. ”You never think of Sue as being forty-five.” Then with a large wave of the hand in Sue's direction, ”What do you want to make her feel older than she is for?”

”I had _no_ such intention,” retorted Mrs. Milo, coldly--and righteously. ”On the contrary, I think Susan is well preserved.”

”Preserved!” gasped Sue, both hands to her head.

”Preserved grandmother!” scoffed Balcome. ”Sue looks like a bride herself. Sue, when that parson gets his eye on you----”

Mrs. Milo saw herself outdone. Her safety lay in hara.s.sing him.

”Speaking of eyes, Mr. Balcome,” she said sweetly, ”it strikes me that yours look as if you'd been up all night.”

Mrs. Balcome rose to the stimulus. ”Susan!” she summoned.