Now, as if silenced by an order, the choir stopped in the middle of a bar.
"Well!" exclaimed Mrs. Balcome. "Positively tragic!" She gathered up the dog and sank upon the sofa.
"Of course, you saw what did it," observed Mrs. Milo.
"What?" asked Hattie, almost challengingly.
"The wedding-march." And when that had sunk in, "Wallace knew. Didn't you hear what he said? He wanted Mr. Farvel to—to conquer the—the—whatever it was he felt. I'll wager" (Mrs. Milo permitted herself to "wager" under the stress of excitement, never to "bet") "that he's broken his engagement, or something of that sort."
Hattie stared resentfully.
"Engagement?" repeated Sue.
Mrs. Milo's blue eyes sparkled with triumph. "Well, it wouldn't surprise me," she declared.
Sue's color deepened. "Why, of course, he isn't," she answered defensively. "He'd say so—he wouldn't keep a matter like that secret. It isn't like him—a whole year."
Her mother smiled at her fondly. "There's nothing to get excited about, my daughter."