“Mrs. Evans is here, too, dear,” her mother reminded her.
The girl curtsied before her mother’s guest, and then threw her arm about the older woman’s neck.
“Oh, Aunt Mae!” she cried. “I’m so excited; but you should have seen him, and, momsie, I got the cutest riding hat!” They were moving toward the living room door, which Guy was holding open. “Guy, I got you the splendiferousest Christmas present!”
“Help!” cried her brother, collapsing into a porch chair. “Don’t you know that I have a weak heart? Do your Christmas shopping early—do it in April! Oh, Lord, can you beat it?” he demanded of the others. “Can you beat it?”
“I think it was mighty nice of Eva to remember me at all,” said Guy, thawing perceptibly.
“What is it?” asked Custer. “I’ll bet you got him a pipe.”
“How ever in the world did you guess?” demanded Eva.
Custer rocked from side to side in his chair, laughing.
“What are you laughing at? Idiot!” cried the girl. “How did you guess I got him a pipe?”
“Because he never smokes anything but cigarettes.”