Part 41 (1/2)

Satisfied with results, Balcome consulted his watch. ”Well, I'm a busy man,” he observed, and kissed Hattie.

”Where is your father going?” demanded Mrs. Balcome.

”Where is father going?” telephoned Sue, taking off hat and coat.

”Buffalo.”

Mrs. Balcome threw up the hand that was not engaged with the dog. ”Oh, what shall we say to Buffalo!” she said tragically. ”Oh, how can I ever go back!”

”Mr. Balcome, do you want to settle on some explanation?”

”Advise Hattie's mother”--Balcome shook a warning finger--”that for a change she'd better tell the truth.”

”Oh!”--the shot told. ”As if I don't always tell it--always!” Then to Sue, ”Suppose we say that the bridegroom is sick?”

Inarticulate with mirth, Balcome gave Sue a parting pat on the shoulder and started away.

”But, John!”

Astounded at being thus directly addressed, and before he could bethink himself not to seem to have heard, Balcome brought short, silently appealing to Sue for her opinion of this extraordinary state of affairs.

For Sue knew. There was only one thing that could have so moved Mrs.

Balcome. ”Lady dear,” she inquired pleasantly, ”how much money do you want?”

”Oh, four hundred will do.” And as Balcome dove into a capacious pocket and brought forth a roll, which Sue handed to her, ”One hundred, two hundred,--three--four----” She counted in a careful, inquiring tone which implied that Balcome might have failed to hand over the sum she suggested. ”And now, Hattie, get your things together. We want to be gone by the time that child comes.”

”Oh, mother,” returned Hattie, crossly, ”you're beginning to treat me exactly as Mrs. Milo treats Sue.”

No argument followed. For at this moment a door banged somewhere in the Rectory, then came the sound of running feet; and Mrs. Milo's voice, shrill with anger, called from the drawing-room:

”Susan!”

”Mother?” said Sue.

Hattie and her father gravitated toward each other in mutual sympathy.

Then joined forces in a defensive stand behind Sue.

”Now, you'll catch it, Miss Susan!” promised Mrs. Balcome. ”Here's someone who'll know how to attend to you!”

”My dear friend,” answered Sue, ”since early yesterday afternoon, here's a person that's been calling her soul her own.”

”Susan!”--the cry was nearer, and sharp.

With elaborate calmness, Sue took up the Kewpie, seated herself, and prepared to look as independent and indifferent as possible.

”Susan!--Oh, help!”

It brought Sue to her feet. There was terror in the cry, and wild appeal.