"Can't you tell him you've heard something about Russell, and that he'd better be cool to him?"
"And have him turn the man down if it really comes to a proposal!"
"That won't matter," I told her. "We'll probably elope anyhow."
Mother opposed that vigorously. She said that no matter how good a match it was, there was always something queer about an elopement. And anyhow she'd been giving wedding gifts for years and it was time something came in instead of going out. It was the only point we differed on.
Well, father did his best to queer things that very day. All the way through I played in hard luck. Just when things were going right something happened.
I met Russell at the Art Gallery. It was a cold day, but I left my muff at home. It was about time for the coat-pocket business. I couldn't afford to wait, for one or two of the girls were wearing their hair like mine, and I'd heard that Toots Warrington had gone to Russell and asked him how he liked kindergartening. Bessie Willing, who told me, said that Russell's reply was:
"It's rather pleasant. I'm reversing things. Instead of going from the cradle to the grave, I'm going from the grave to the cradle."
I don't believe he said it. In the first place, he is too polite. In the second place, he is too stupid. But as Toots is not young he may have thought of it.
He was waiting near a heater, and we sat down together. I shivered.
"Cold, honey?" he asked.