W. in memory of N.Y." Jack rather protested at this,
asking her if she realized what the engraving would come to.
"I don't know," said Aunt Mary recklessly and lavishly. "I don't care what
it comes to either. It's comin' to me, anyhow, ain't it? I rather think
so. Seems likely."
The clerk took down the order, and then as he was ushering them door-wards
he fell by the wayside and craved permission to show some tiaras of
emeralds and some pearl dog-collars. Jack rebelled.
"You don't want any of those," he exclaimed, trying to propel her by.
"I ain't so sure," said Aunt Mary. "I might have a dog some day."
But her nephew got her back into their conveyance, and they drove away. It
was so late that they could not consider the park and so had to make a
tour of Fifth Avenue to use up the time left before dinner. Then when they
headed toward the cafe they were delighted to observe Mitchell awaiting
them just where he was to have been.
"I see him," said Aunt Mary. "My! I'd know him as far off as I'd know
anybody." But then she sighed. "I wish the others were there, too," she
said sadly; "seems awful--just three of us."
The dinner which followed echoed her sentiment. It was a very nice dinner,
but painfully quiet, and Aunt Mary grew very restless.
"Seems like wastin' time, anyhow," she said uneasily. "I don't see why the
others didn't come. Well, can't we go to Coney Island or the Statue of
Liberty or somewhere when we're through?"
Mitchell looked at Jack.
Pages:
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166