Peggy's fingers gripped the sides of her chair. Whatever had happened she must control herself. Like one in a dream she heard Dick floundering on.
"Maybe something will happen yet, so--so it won't be so bad." Dick was thinking hopefully that perhaps one of his invited guests would find himself unable to accept.
"Go on," gasped Peggy. But her appearance, instead of encouraging Dick to confession, made it seem impossible.
"I--I guess I'll wait," he choked. "Maybe you'll feel better before supper."
Peggy's strength returned with miraculous suddenness. She pounced upon her brother as he was about to escape. "Tell me now, Dick. I--I can bear it."
"I--" Dick swallowed. "I asked Skits to supper."
Peggy waited stupidly.
"And Tom, too. I wanted to show 'em what a good cook you were."
Another pause. "Go on," prompted a stifled voice. "What about mother?"
It was Dick's turn to be startled. "Mother? Why, has anything happened to mother?"