Helen was waiting in the old-fashioned parlor when Tom's step echoed on the stoop. Cleo hurried to meet him on the porch.
His face clouded with a scowl:
"She's here?"
"Yes, Mr. Handsome Boy," Cleo answered cheerfully. "And lunch is ready—do rub that awful scowl off your face and look like you're glad."
"Well, I'm not—so what's the use? It'll be a mess to have a girl on my hands day and night and I've got no time for it. I wish Dad was here. I know I'll hate the sight of her."
Cleo smiled:
"Better wait until you see her."
"Where is she?"
"In the parlor."
"All right—the quicker a disagreeable job's over the better."