I was not very joyful myself when our one-time schoolmate made too free with Mr. Tucker. I didn't really and truly think he cared a snap for her, but I well knew how persistent effort on the part of a designing female could eventually work wonders on the male heart.
"How do I know? I'd like to know who but Mabel Binks writes on burnt orange paper, with brown ink, with an envelope big enough to hold all the documents in the City Hall, and that smelling like a demonstration counter of cheap perfumes. I'd hate to think Zebedee could put up with two female admirers as gaudy as she is."
Dum always stormed like that when Mabel Binks was in question, or any woman under fifty who happened to like her father. Dee was walking with Louis or she, too, would have joined in the tirade against their bête noir.
"I shouldn't think you would feel the slightest uneasiness about your father. I am sure you can trust his good taste if he should ever marry," and Mrs. Green drew Dum to her.
I didn't know about that. I thought it was quite possible for the wrong person to hoodwink Zebedee into not knowing his taste from hers. I had been brought up by Mammy Susan, who was somewhat of a cynic in her way, and she used to say:
"Th' ain't no countin' on what kin' er wife a widderman is goin' ter pick out. One thing you may be sho' of, a man nebber picks out two alike. If the fus' one was tall an' thin the nex' one is sho' ter be sho't an' fat. I tell yer, men is pow'ful weak an' women is mighty 'suadin'."
That phrase that Mammy Susan was so fond of, "Men is weak an' women is 'suadin'," made me tremble sometimes for what the father of the twins might do. He had talked to me about marrying again, and had given me to understand many times that Mabel Binks was not his style, but sometimes I used to think that maybe "he doth protest too much."
We were missing Zebedee greatly, and were very glad when we got back to the hotel to learn from a long distance message that he would be with us the next morning.