“What brings you here fiddle in hand? Are you going to play a balcony scene?”
“No. I came to invite you to spend Christmas with me.”
Bowling Green—Cissy, King, Von, Miss Jane and Dick, Dottie, Margie, Jean, Honky—heaven! As near perfect a Christmas as could be without precious, precious Mother Dear and Junior so far, so very far away. The distance had been widening daily ever since Mimi had mailed their presents to Germany. She had wrapped her packages quietly and mailed them without telling, but she had known they were gone, known how lonely Christmas would be and Sue had guessed. Dear roly-poly Sue who was never lonesome herself.
Mimi blinked and gasped.
“Sue, do you really?”
“No savvy Englesh?”
“Why, Sue! I’d love to, only, do you think it will be all right with your Mother?”
“You don’t think I’d ask you if it wasn’t, do you? Why—” Sue had to be convincing now. “Mother is writing Mrs. Cole—and Dr. Barnes both so that there can be no question about your permission!” Sue stopped triumphantly. When Mrs. Cole’s and Dr. Barnes’ names were mentioned, all was said that could be said.
“Providing the permission comes through, I accept. Yes, a thousand times yes.”
“Good! See you at supper.”