“I will,” cried the girl, with her eyes flashing, and her little cupid-bow-like mouth compressed in a look of determination. “No, I won’t. I’ll go into hysterics, and scream the house down. I’ll make such a scene!”
“You be quiet, you saucy hussy. There, it’s the races, and I’ve got a lot of business to see to. But, look here, your place is along with your husband.”
“Well, that’s where I’m going to be,” said the girl, with a merry look. “I went over on my bike this morning and saw him.”
“Oh, that’s where you were off to?”
“Yes, and Syd’s promised to be a good boy, and come over to see you to-day and have it out.”
“Oh, is he? Well, that’s right, but I don’t want him to-day. I’m too busy. Look ye here, though, my gal, I mean to see that you have your rights. You just wait till I get my young gentleman under my thumb. I’ll give him the thumbscrew, and—”
“Here he is!” cried the girl, joyfully; and with a frisk like a lamb in a May-field she danced to the boy, who hurried in breathlessly. “Oh, Syd, Syd, Syd!”
The beauty of the dress was forgotten, as a pair of prettily plump arms were thrown round the young husband’s neck, while, ignoring the big, ugly, scowling parent, the new arrival did his part in a very loving hug and an interchange of very warm, honey-moony kisses.
The recipients were brought to their senses by a growl. “Well, that’s a pretty performance in public, young people.”
“Public!” cried the girl. “Pooh! Only you, daddy, and you don’t count.”