"All."
"No—trimmings? You might say good night to the groceryman that way."
"Good night—dear," she said, obediently.
"It's true. I'm not dreaming it. Noon TO-MORROW?"
"Noon to-morrow," she repeated.
He walked to the door, stopped, turned, hesitated as if to come back. Then he smiled at her boyishly, happily, wagged his head gayly, as though admonishing himself to be about his business and to stop philandering, and went out…. He did not see her drag herself to the sofa wearily; he did not see her sink upon it and bury her face again in the cushions; he did not hear the sobs that wrenched and shook her…. He would then have understood that this was not the usual way for a girl to enter her engagement. He would have understood that something was wrong, very wrong.
After waiting a long time for her daughter to come out, Mrs. Frazer opened the door determinedly and went in. Ruth sat up and, wiping her eyes on a tear-soggy handkerchief, said:
"I'm going to marry Bonbright Foote to-morrow noon mother."
Mrs. Frazer sat down very suddenly in a chair which was fortunately at hand, and stared at her daughter.
"Of all things…" she said, weakly.