"Of course, as you say, I don't have him—except for a couple of weeks in the summer, when Sue has her vacation, and we all go to the Catskills. Then at Christmastime he comes here for a week. Sue has never asked permission to have Wallace live at the Rectory——"
"Except of Mr. Farvel."
"Mr. Farvel didn't have to be asked. He and Wallace are old friends.
They met years ago—once when Wallace went to Canada with a boy chum.
And Canada's the farthest he's ever been, so——"
"It was I who decided on Peru," said the girl, almost defiantly. "The very day he proposed to me he told me about the big silver mine down there that wants a young engineer. And I said Yes on one condition: that Wallace would take me as far away from home as possible."
The elder woman rose, finger on lip. "Sh!" she cautioned, glancing toward the door left open by the florist. "Oh, we don't want any gossip, Hattie!"
Hattie lifted her eyebrows. "We don't want it," she agreed, "but we shall get it. They'll all be asking one another, 'Why not the Church? or the drawing-room? Why the yard?'" She nodded portentously.
Mrs. Milo came nearer. "They'll never suspect," she promised. "Outdoor weddings are very fashionable."
"Maybe. But what I can't understand is this: Dad's heart is set on this marriage. He wants to get me out of the way." Then as Mrs. Milo's expression changed from a gratified beam to a stare of horror, "Oh, don't be shocked; he has his good reasons. But as I'm going, why can't he make a few concessions, instead of trying to spoil the wedding?"
"Spoil, dear?" chided the elder woman. "The wedding will be beautiful in the Close."
Hattie's brown eyes swam with sudden tears. "Perhaps," she answered.
"But just for this one time, why can't my father and mother——"