“Sweet sixteen.”

“Gee!” says fatty, in clover.

“I suppose you’ll be getting married ... soon.”

“I guess I’d marry you, all right,” the fortune hunter blurted out, “if I had a chance.”

“Silly!”

“It’s funny my father doesn’t come.”

“Hasn’t he been here at all to-night?”

“No.”

“And grandpa’s will hasn’t been read?”

“No.... Say, you won’t forget, will you?”