"Never mind," comforted Sue. "Never mind."
He tried to smile. "This—this is chickens coming home to roost, isn't it?" he asked; turned, fighting against tears, and with a smothered farewell entered the house.
Mrs. Balcome wiped her eyes. "Oh, poor Wallace! Poor boy!" she mourned. And to Sue, "I hope you're satisfied! You started out yesterday to stop this wedding—your own brother's wedding!—and you've succeeded. I can't fathom your motives—except that some women, when they fail to land husbands of their own, simply hate to see anybody else have one. It's the envy of the—soured spinster."
Sue was busily arranging the toys. "So I can't land a husband, eh?" she laughed.
"But your mother tells me that you're championing the unmarried alliance," went on Mrs. Balcome.
"You mean Laura Farvel, of course. Well, not exactly. You see, neither mother nor I know anything against Mrs. Farvel except what Mrs. Farvel has said herself. But one thing is certain: even an unmarried alliance, as you call it, is more decent than a marriage without love."
"Oh, slam!" Balcome exploded in pure joy.
"How dare you!" cried Mrs. Balcome, dividing an angry look between her husband and Sue.
"And," Sue went on serenely, "when it comes to that, I respect an unmarried woman with a child fully as much as I do a married woman with a poodle."
"Wow!" shouted Balcome.