“Humph!” she said, and closed her eyes, pretending to go to sleep.
When she awoke, I tackled her again. “I’ve engaged the church, Aunt,” quoth I.
“What for?” said she.
“For the thirty-first,” I replied blandly while Checkers snickered.
“What are you talking about?” and by now Aunt was truly cross.
“The same thing,” I sighed, “our wedding.”
She muttered something about that ceremony never coming off and departed for the observation car to join the Prince. But she looked worried.
Checkers egged me on to begin again when she re-appeared. “As I was saying, Aunt, when we were interrupted, everything’s all ready, you know. Checkers will give me away. Sybil is to be maid of honor—she’s to wear white lace and carry Lady Battersea roses—and the decorations are to be wine-red azaleas—”
“Not another word!” she snapped, and I drew a long breath and stopped for a few minutes to get ready for the next attack. After a pause, “The thirty-first’s the day, you know,” I observed casually. Aunt blinked.
“The wedding day,” piped up my brother. “Our Polly’s!”