Part 48 (2/2)

No, it wasn't a big mob, but it was a heap better than havin' some Connecticut parson call in wifie and the hired girl, as I'd first planned it.

And prompt at 9:30 the Reverend Percey shows up, some out of breath from his dash across from the subway, but ready to shoot his lines as soon as he got his hat off. While he didn't quite have to do that, we didn't waste much time on settin' the stage.

”Come on, Vee,” says I, takin' her by the hand. ”How about over there in our old window alcove, eh? Tum tum-te-tum!”

She holds back just a second. Then she tosses her chin up, smiles brave at me, and gives my fingers a squeeze. Say, she's some girl.

Another minute and the Reverend Percey is off with a flyin' start. He ain't so husky to look at, but he booms out the ”Wilt-thou” stuff real impressive and solemn, part of the time peekin' over his gla.s.ses at the folks behind, and then lookin' earnest at us. For an off-hand performance I call it a good job. And almost before I knew it was under way it's all over.

”Well, Vee,” says I, plantin' a smack in the right place, ”we've done it!”

”I--I wish Auntie knew,” says she.

”But she does,” says Mr. Robert. ”At Torchy's request I have just called her up. She will be here in less than half an hour.”

”With her blessin'--or what?” I asks.

”As to that,” says Mr. Robert, ”I am not informed.”

Anyway, we had time to brace ourselves. Vee had only finished changing and the bags was bein' sent down to the taxi when in she comes.

”Young man--” she begins.

But I heads her off.

”Why, Auntie!” says I, lettin' on to be surprised, and holdin' out both hands. ”You don't know how we missed you. Honest! All my fault, though. But say, with your stickin' to that years-and-years idea, what else could we do--I ask you?”

And then I notices that them straight-cut mouth corners of hers ain't set near so hard as I thought. Her eyes ain't throwin' off sparks, either. They're sort of dewy, in fact. And when she does speak again there's a break in her voice.

”Come,” says she, beckonin' us up. ”Perhaps you know best, after all, you silly children.”

I'll bet we made a fine group, too, the three of us, Auntie in the middle, givin' us the fond clinch.

”But such impudence of you, to do it right here!” she goes on. ”No one but you, Torchy, would have thought of that.”

”Had to,” says I, ”with everything else barred. I suspected it might b.u.mp you some, but--”

”Pardon me,” breaks in Mr. Robert, ”but it's time for you to start for your train.”

”Train!” says Vee. ”Torchy, where are we going?”

”Just a sec.,” says I, ”till I look at the tickets.”

So the last I heard from Auntie was a gasp.

<script>