"To get married?"
"It would seem so."
"To who?"
"'To whom,' Florence," her mother suggested primly.
"Mamma!" the daughter cried. "Who's Aunt Julia engaged to get married to? Noble Dill?"
"Good gracious, no!" Mrs. Atwater exclaimed. "What an absurd idea! It's to a young man in the place she's visiting—a stranger to all of us. Julia only met him a few weeks ago." Here she forgot Florence, and turned again to her husband, wearing her former expression of experienced foreboding.
"It's just as I said. It's exactly like Julia to do such a reckless thing!"
"But as we don't know anything at all about the young man," he remonstrated, "how do you know it's reckless?"
"How do you know he's young?" Mrs. Atwater retorted crisply. "All in the world she said about him was that he's a lawyer. He may be a widower, for all we know, or divorced, with seven or eight children."
"Oh, no, Mollie!"