"Well," says I, "suppose when he comes to-morrow, I mention somethin' about I and the Missus havin' tickets to the op'ra Tuesday night. Then, if he's so wild about music, he'll maybe try to horn into the party and split the expenses fifty-fifty."
"That'd be a fine thing!" says the Frau. "He'd think we was a bunch o' cheap skates. Come right out and ask him to go at your expense, or else don't ask him at all."
"I won't ask him at all," I says. "It was a mistake for me to ever suggest it."
"Yes," says Bessie, "but after makin' the suggestion it would be a mean trick to not go through with it."
"Why?" I ast her. "He won't never know the difference."
"But I will," says Bessie.
"Course you would, dear," says the Missus. "After thinkin' you was goin' to have a man of your own, the party wouldn't seem like no party if you just went along with us."
"All right, all right," I says. "Let's not argue no more. Every time I open my head it costs three dollars."
"No such a thing," says the Missus. "The whole business won't only be two dollars more than you figured on. The tickets you had for the two of us would come to ten dollars, and with Bess and Mr. Bishop goin' it's only twelve, if you get balcony seats."
"I wonder," says Bessie, "if Mr. Bishop wouldn't object to settin' in the balcony."