"My dear," beamed Mrs. Milo, "are you singing away as hard as ever?"
"Oh, I have a great many weddings," declared the other, with a note that was somewhat bragging.
Mrs. Milo looked down at the long, slender, ungloved hand still held in one of hers. "Ah," she went on, playfully teasing, "but I see you're not always going to sing at other girls' weddings."
Miss Crosby pulled her hand free, and thrust it behind her among the folds of her skirt. "Well,—I—I——" She gave a sudden frightened look around, as if seeking some way of escape.
Sue was quick to her rescue. "Don't you want to wait with the choir?" she asked, waving a hand. "—You, too, Hattie."
Mrs. Milo seemed not to notice the singer's confusion. And when the latter disappeared with Hattie, she appealed to Sue, beaming with excitement. "Did you notice?" she asked. "A solitaire! She's engaged to be married!"
"Married!" echoed Sue, and shook her head.
"Oh, yes. You're thinking of the Balconies. Well, now you see why
I've never felt too badly about your not taking the step."
"You mean that most marriages——?"
"It's a lottery—a lottery." Mrs. Milo sighed.