“Now, wasn’t she fine? What did I tell you?”
“Whew!” Katie made a stab at whistling. “She’s so grand she makes the chills run up and down my back! Do you know, Howard, all the time she was talkin’ to me, I felt as if she was lookin’ right inside of me—through my clothes and all.”
“Mother’s true blue all right!” Howard declared proudly. “The way she took it is a great relief to me. I confess I was terribly nervous for a minute. I hope we won’t have any trouble with your mother, dear?”
“Humph! My Ma’s goin’ to be tickled to death! Besides, she ain’t got nothin’ to say about me—I told you I’ve always been self-supportin’.”
In the kitchen Marjorie was gathering up the dishes and cutlery for the extra place at the table. Her tears were falling so fast they almost blinded her. She kept brushing them away as she whispered over and over to herself:
“Dear God, help me to-night. Give me the strength to make my boy—happy!”
CHAPTER XXI
Howard’s mother arranged a place at the table next to him for Katie, then brought in a platter of cold meats, some potato salad, and a pot of coffee. Howard, as was his custom, held the chairs for his mother and their guest, then seated himself.
“I hope you like cold meat and potato salad, Katie?” Marjorie asked, as she began to serve. “Howard prefers it to anything else on Sunday evening, especially during the warm weather.”
“I think it’s fine,” Katie answered, playing nervously with her napkin, “and it saves a lot of work—cooking.”