“And I thought she was talking to the angels!” she mourned.
“She won’t talk to no one, let alone angels, for some time to come,” retorted the severely practical Sue. “And I’d just as lief she wouldn’t, anyways. Because Ma Petterby says as soon as they begin talkin’ they begin getting into mischief, too.”
“Oh, how is your mother, Lance?” asked Dorothy, suddenly remembering. “I have meant to ask you all along but there has been so much to talk about.”
“She’s fine, thank you, ma’am,” responded Lance, his eyes lighting up as he spoke of his little old mother. “Ma thinks there ain’t no place like Colorado now, and she thinks they ain’t no gal like Sue here. Ma just dotes on Sue.”
“Go long with you,” protested Sue, blushing beneath the fond regard of her young husband. “You don’t have to tell all the family secrets, do you?”
“As long as they’s happy ones I don’t see where we got any call to hide ’em,” replied Lance mildly. “Anyways, my two women folks sure do get along fine.”
“Two women folks,” echoed Tavia, adding, with a wicked glance at Dorothy: “But how about the third, Lance? I am surprised you haven’t mentioned her.”
The simple Lance looked mystified.
“Third?” he repeated. “I don’t seem to catch your drift, Miss Tavia.”
“Why, Ophelia. You don’t mean to say you have forgotten Ophelia?” cried Tavia, and her voice was quite properly shocked.