“Okay then,” Bertha announced. “You’d better get rid of them as soon as you can.”
Belder said, “You’re not telling me anything. I can’t even go out to look for Mabel while they’re here.”
“And why do you suppose your wife didn’t tell you anything about the telegram saying her mother was coming?”
“I don’t know,” Belder said, his voice showing how worried he was. “It’s not at all like her.”
“The only reason,” Bertha went on, “is that your wife didn’t want you to know she was coming. Evidently she was anticipating some sort of a domestic crisis and wanted to have her mother here for moral support. I’ll bet you she wired or telephoned for her mother to come on account of that letter.”
“I know. I know,” Belder said. “It’s that letter. As soon as she got it, she telephoned her mother. What a mess it is!”
“Take my advice,” Bertha said, “and call for a showdown. Tell her where to get off. Don’t start flattering her and toadying to her. You overdo that stuff, anyway. And it’s no good. You can’t appease a woman of that type. You—”
“Sh-h-h, not so loud, please,” Belder pleaded in a whisper. “I—”
“Everett,” Mrs. Goldring called, “can’t you spare us just a moment of your valuable time? We’re worried about Mabel. She didn’t meet the train and we know she planned to.”
“Yes, yes — coming,” Belder said.