“Especially the color scheme,” drawled Victor. “Mabel, I call your attention to the red, blue and purple lanterns. Some class? Yes? Well, I must go. I'll be back in a very short time. If Parker wasn't starting for Europe to-morrow I shouldn't think of leaving, but I'm sure you'll forgive me, under the circumstances.”
“I forgive you, Victor,” replied the girl, carelessly. “But don't be too long.”
“No, don't,” added her father. “I promised Mrs. Colton that I should not be away more than an hour. She's very nervous to-night and I may be sent for any time. So don't keep us waiting.”
“No fear of that. I'll be back long before you are ready to go. I wouldn't miss this—er—affair myself for something. Ah, our combination friend, the undertaking postmaster.”
Sim's hat was in his hand and he was greeting Mr. Colton.
“Proud to see you amongst us, sir,” said Sim, with unction. “The Methodist folks are havin' quite a time to-night, ain't they?”
“How d'ye do, Eldredge,” was the great man's salutation, not at all effusive. “Where does all this crowd come from? Didn't know there were so many people in the neighborhood.”
“'Most everybody's out to-night. Church'll make consider'ble money. Good evenin', Miss Colton. Mr. Carver, pleased to meet you again, sir.”
The young lady merely nodded. Victor, whose foot was on the step of the car, did not deign to turn.
“Thanks,” he drawled. “I am—er—embalmed, I'm sure. All ready, Phil. Let her go, Oscar.”