"Things have happened on Sunday," observed Skinner quietly.
"When do you expect to start for home?"
"I 'm not sure, but I 'm counting strongly on Tuesday morning."
While the Skinners were talking, something pertaining to the same business was developing in another part of the city.
"Do I get another dress?" Mrs. Jackson asked as the famous curmudgeon entered the dining-room Thursday evening.
"You do," he growled. "I'll be hanged if I understand it."
"It's too bad," Mrs. Jackson began.
The curmudgeon held up his finger. "Stop right where you are. I know what you're going to say." He growled out the accustomed formula: "'You'd give me dresses all day long and diamonds and a magnificent house, but you don't give me what is dearest in the world. I want to go with the people I 'm fit to go with!' In the future, just to save time, cross your fingers and I'll know you mean formula number two."
"But Mr. Skinner," Mrs. Jackson persisted.
The curmudgeon cut her short. "What's Skinner got to do with it?"