Once inside the carriage, the women began a light, friendly chatter; smiles and laughter; little jests about Benedicks, about the servant question, about coming home late o' nights; antenuptial persiflage. There was little that was spontaneous; each jest was an effort; but it sufficed to relieve what might have been awkward silence.
"It's up to you, now, Dick," said John. "Think of the good times we four could have together!"
"And who'd marry an old man like me?" asked Warrington plaintively.
"Bosh!" said John.
"Nonsense!" said Patty.
"You are a young man," said the mother.
"There are plenty setting their caps for you, if you but knew it," said Miss Challoner.
"Aha! I smell a conspiracy!" laughed Warrington. "You are putting your heads together to get me off your hands."
The breakfast awaited them at Bennington's hotel. This passed off smoothly. Then Warrington excused himself. He had a business engagement down town. It was arranged, however, that they were to be his guests that evening at dinner and a box-party at the summer opera. On Wednesday, at ten, they were to breakfast in his apartment. From his rooms they would go straight to the parson's, the "Little Church Around the Corner."
When Warrington had gone, John turned to his sister.