"I took cold leaving off my apron," Mrs. Sanford remarked. "I always do."
"That is a slight cause, daughter Britann," said grandmother. "Do'st thee feel sure there was no other?"
"I suppose I know when I take cold," she retorted. "I always take cold if I leave off my apron; and, if I go to a tea-party, I always wear my apron under my dress."
"I declare!" exclaimed Patty, rushing in like a whirlwind. "I'll never speak to that horrid Tom Putnam again to the longest day I live!"
"Softly, softly," said the old lady. "Thee do'st not wish to make promises and break them. What disturbs thee?"
"It's about you, grandmother. He dared to say you were not married."
"Not married?"
"Not married!" echoed Mrs. Sanford. "And your family always held out to be so much better than ours, and so leading me to marry into it, and help bear the disgrace!"
"Hush, mother!" Patty said impatiently. "There isn't any disgrace. It is only a blunder of Mr. Putnam's."
"Then, your father ought to sue him for libel. I always told you I didn't approve of your dawdling about with that lawyer, with Clarence Toxteth at your beck and call. But you always would have your own way, and disgrace us all by keeping company with the man that slanders your family."