"Well, don't try to walk down," advised Bobby. "I did it once, and was in bed for two days. He'll come up with the next load. No one ever walks up unless they are crazy—or going to theological seminary. Your husband isn't a minister, is he?"
"Oh, no, he's a lawyer," the bride managed to say.
"All right," approved Bobby, noting with satisfaction that the elevator gate had closed. "Come round with us and see the sights, and then when your husband comes up you can tell him all the news. This is Betty Gordon, Libbie Littell and Louise, Esther and Bobby Littell, all at your service."
"I'm Mrs. Hale," said the bride, stumbling a little over the name and yet pronouncing it with obvious pride.
CHAPTER XIV
LIBBIE IS ROMANTIC
The girls, marshaled by Bobby, made a tour of the windows, and though Betty was fascinated by the views of the city spread out before her and bought post cards to send to the Pineville friends and those she knew in Glenside and Laurel Grove, her mind was running continuously on young Mrs. Hale's announcement.
"She couldn't be the old bookstore man's wife," she speculated, her eyes fixed on the Potomac while Bobby cheerfully tangled up history and geography in a valiant effort to instruct her guests. "Lockwood Hale was an old man, Bob said. He didn't say he had a son, but I wonder——Oh, Bobby, the Jesuit fathers didn't sail down the Potomac, did they?"
"Well, it was some river," retorted Bobby. "Anyway, Miss, you didn't seem to be listening to a word I said. What were you thinking about in such a brown study?"