"I wouldn't want anybody treating Johnnie that way, I know that." And her tongue wagged happily on. Mother's vices or virtues were dismissed as slight things, in this new joy. They sat still there, Emily listening to Johnnie's praises till he came back into the room with Bob.
The paternal blessing detained them only for a minute. They hurried away to their housekeeping. A hurricane of happiness; seemed to be moving the furniture in the painted room about, judging from the noise. Bob and Emily sat side by side listening to the chortles of mirth that came down to them. Bob couldn't stop grinning.
"I always said this would happen, Emily. I always knew it would."
"Right as usual!" said Emily. If a woman has a good husband, what's the use of reminding him of all he doesn't know? she mused, happily.
She scarcely knew the painted room itself when she went up to it later. It was noon, but the curtains were pushed back as far as possible, and the blinds rolled to the top, so that the sunshine came crashing down like thunder from paradise on the roused and choral colors. The Victrola was grinding out:
Two for tea,
And tea for two.
A girl for me,
And a boy for you.
Johnnie cried out, "Come in, Mrs. Kenworthy!"
Martha gurgled, jeering. "Mrs. Kenworthy! the nerve of you! Call her mother!"
They hadn't ceased dancing. Martha had a gaudy printed purple silk thing, a man's belongings, pinned about her head, turban-wise, and her arms were clasped firmly around her husband's waist. She made a gesture with her head about the room.
"It never looked better, did it, mammie? You always wanted it this way."