"You will be in New York," retorted Jemima; "you have to go early in the morning."
"My dear, the day after will do as well."
"Now, pa, you know you said——"
"Oh, Miss Jemima," broke in Elsie, "I shall think you don't want us to come!"
"And I," said the widow, "shall be mortally offended if Mr. Rhodes runs away the very first time I have the pleasure of visiting his house."
"Of course, of course!" said the stout man. "My daughter, Mimy, is a great business woman—girl, I mean—but on an occasion like this even business must wait. Ladies, I go home to dream of the honor to-morrow will bring."
"Well, pa, if we're going at all, I think we'd better start," cried the spinster; "we are keeping the horses in the cold."
She made her farewells very brief and carried off her parent in triumph, darting a last defiant look at the widow as she passed.
The moment they were gone Elsie went into convulsions of laughter, and clapping her pretty white hands like a child, cried out:
"She'll poison you, Mary Harrington, I know she will."