"But—Orlean, I thought—I thought—"
"Oh, Mother," cried Jean Baptiste, "don't think. It will hurt you. Besides, it will not be necessary for you to think any more with regards to us now. We are as we were, and that is all. There is nothing wrong between us—never has been, nor between you and I now either, is there?" Whereupon he drew her down and upon the davenport and placed himself between her and her daughter.
"Now let's reason this thing out together," he began. "There is no need for quarreling. We'll leave that to idle, disagreeable people. The first thing in life is to know what you want—and then go get it. That's the way I do. When I proposed to Orlean I did so after due consideration. There has been some little disagreement with regards to my coming to get her, which was due to the fact that I have been so overrun with work until I really felt I had not the time to spare. However, here I am and ready to marry her. So let's get those who are concerned together and have it over with. What do you say to it?" he said, looking from one to the other. In the meantime, Ethel had crept down from upstairs to see what was going on, and saw the three on the davenport together, with Jean Baptiste in the middle. Whereupon, she turned and hurried back upstairs to where her husband was, with these words: "Glavis, Glav—is," she cried all out of breath with exasperation. "I just wish you'd look! Just step down there and look!"
"Why, why—what is the matter, Ethel!" he cried, rising from his chair in some excitement.
"Why, that Jean Baptiste is sitting down there on the davenport with mama on one side of him and my sister on the other!"
"Oh, is that all!" he breathed with relief.
"Is that all!" she echoed in derision, her narrow little face screwed up.
"Well?"
"Will you 'well' me when that man just comes in here and takes the house and all that's in it!"
"Oh, Ethel." he argued. "Will you use some sense!"