“Hurt you, Tom,” cried his wife, her deep blue eyes wide with dismay. “How can you say such a thing? But if it is given for him, how can I do anything else than let him arrange the day to suit himself? It would be funny for the guest of honor not to be present, wouldn’t it?”
“I don’t see why you want to make him a guest of honor,” he retreated, covering his position.
Gently, Gerty expressed her belief that she was doing the best thing for her husband in getting up a public affair for his successor. She did think that Tom would see that it showed they had no feeling.
“I think it a fine idea,” agreed Innes heartily. “I’m sure Tom will, too, when he thinks about it.” But she did not give him any chance to express himself. “How are you going to manage it, Gerty? You said it was going to be progressive?”
“We shall draw for partners,” said Mrs. Hardin. “And change every half a mile. The first lap will be two miles; that will give some excitement in cutting for partners.” Easy, being the hostess, to withhold any slip she pleased, easy to make it seem accidental!
“When is this circus coming off?” inquired her husband.
“Mr. Rickard says he will be back on the first; that he’ll be free on the second.”
Hardin scraped his chair over the pine-board floor which Gerty had helped Sam to treat until it looked “hard.” Each alternate strip had been stained dark, the whole waxed and rubbed until it almost gave a shadow, the housekeeper’s idea of elegance.
“For half an hour, I’ll listen to Mrs. Youngberg tell me how hard it is to have to do without servants, as she’s never done it in her life before. For another half-mile, Mrs. Hatfield will flirt with me, and Mrs. Middleton will tell me all about ‘her dear little kiddies,’ Sounds cheerful. Why didn’t you choose cards? No one has to talk then.”
There was an interval when his wife appeared to be balancing his suggestion. “No, I think it will have to be a drive; for I’ve told every one about it.”