"Every one was talking about it," continued Miss Mix; "but I never dreamed of interfering until Thanksgiving, when the Temples planned a week's house-party in Santa Cruz, and asked Tony to go. That would have settled it; so I managed to see Tony, and from that day on I may say I never let go of him. I took him about, I accompanied him when he sang—just big-sistered him generally! I'm thirty-two, you know, and I never dreamed he would—but he DID. New Year's night, Mr. Fox. Well, then I either had to say no, and let him go again, or say yes, and hold him. So I said yes. I couldn't stop him from planning, and I never dreamed he'd write you! Now, do you begin to see?"
"I see," said Anthony, huskily.
He cleared his throat.
"Meanwhile," pursued Miss Mix, glowing delightedly in the sympathy of her listener, "I introduced him to the Rogerses and the Peppers, and lots of jolly people, who are doing him a world of good. He goes about—he's developing. And now, just as I began to hope that the time had come when we could quietly break off our engagement, here YOU are, to make him feel in honor bound to stick to it!"
"Well, I am—" Anthony left it unfinished. "What can I do?" he asked meekly.
"We'll find a plan somehow," said Miss Mix, approvingly. "But you must be got out first!"
"And meanwhile," said Anthony, awkwardly, "I don't really know how to thank you—"
"Oh, nonsense!" she said lightly. "You forget how fond I am of him! Now, I'll go up to the house, and—" Her confident voice faltered, and Anthony was astonished to see a look of dismay cross her face. "Oh, my goodness gracious heavenly day!" she ejaculated softly. "Whatever shall we do now? Now we never can get you out!"
"Then I'll stay in," laughed Anthony, philosophically.
Miss Mix echoed his laugh nervously. She glanced across the yard.