Mrs. Balcome rose to the stimulus. "Susan!" she summoned.
"Yes, dear lady?"
"You will kindly ask my husband——"
"Go ahead, Mrs. Balcome," invited Sue, resignedly. And, turning an imaginary handle, "Ting-a-ling-ling!"
Mrs. Milo, beaming with satisfaction, made her way daintily to the passage door. "I think I'll call the choir," she observed, and disappeared.
Like a war steed pawing the earth with impatient hoof, Mrs. Balcome tapped the carpet. Her eye was set, her mouth was pursed. Though her dress was of some soft material, she seemed fairly to bristle. "How long has Hattie's father been in town?" she demanded.
"But you don't care," reminded Sue.
"How long?" persisted the other.
With comical gravity, Sue turned upon Balcome. "How long has Hattie's father been in town?" she echoed. And as he held up all the fingers of one hand, "Oh, two—or three—or four"—a cautious testing of Mrs. Balcome's temper.
That lady's ample bosom rose and fell tempestuously. "And I've had everything to do!" she complained; "—everything! Why haven't we seen him before?"