“No, ’tis I, Millie, former skipper of the Cuckoo’s Nest on Green River and now the most dignified member of the faculty ’way down yonder where I teach.”
It wouldn’t be Miss Millie if she wasn’t clowning.
“I hardly recognize you without your silly sailor hat but oh, Millie! Tell me the news. Where have you been? Where are you going? And that rudest question of all, how long can you stay?”
“Large order but I’ll try. I have been in Bowling Green for Christmas, am en route to the high school where I earn my daily bread, can stay here fifteen minutes. There is a taxi waiting at your door now. He promised to get me to the train in plenty of time. If I stay a second past my allotted fifteen minutes he is to begin blowing and not stop until I appear. One way for a homely girl to cause a panic.”
“Millie, you’re not homely. You look wonderful to me. I never was so glad to see any one! Don’t waste a minute. Tell me everything. How is Miss Jane?”
“You should see her apartment. The McIntosh’s moved out of Mrs. Herold’s house so Jane has her own apartment but she still lives at home. She has everything Early American. Maple beds pegged together instead of screwed or nailed. An elegant Chintz chaise longue with soft pillows. You just sink down to heaven in it. I had tea with Jane and sat on it. She says that after supper she and Dick scramble for it but usually end up by both of them sitting on it. She looks prettier than she ever did in her life—rested, fresh and has more pep! She’s been making curtains, made a tufted candlewick bed spread, and now is hooking a rug—whatta’ gal!”
“Isn’t she though?”
One by one Mimi went down the list. How was each? Who gave parties? What was served? What was worn?
When Millie sprang up and jerked her hat forward at the first honk of the taxi, there were still things left unsaid.
“Muchas gracias—er-r-r—for the presents,” Mimi added in English—“and adios.”