That's how I come to get the benefit of all this mushy conversation that begins to drift out from the next room. First off I couldn't make out whether it was some one havin' a tooth plugged, or if it was a case of a mouse bein' loose at a tea party. Course, the squeals and giggles I could place as comin' from Miss Marjorie Ellins. Maybe you remember about Mr. Robert's heavyweight young sister that wanted to play Juliet once?
But who the other party was I didn't have an idea, except that from the "you-alls" she was usin' I knew she must hail from somewhere south of Baltimore.
Anyway, they seemed to be too much excited to sit down while they talked, and the first thing I knew they'd drifted into the lib'ry, their arms twined around each other in a reg'lar schoolgirl clinch, and the conversation just bubblin' out of 'em free.
Miss Marjorie was all got up classy in pink and white, and she sure does look like a wide, corn fed Venus. The other is a slim, willowy young lady with a lot of home grown blond hair, a cute chin dimple, and a pair of big dark eyes with a natural rovin' disposition. And she's hobble skirted to the point where her feet was about as much use as if they'd been tied in a bag.
It was some kind of a long winded story she was tellin' very confidential, with Marjorie supplyin' the exclamation points.
"Really, now, was he, Mildred?" says Marjorie.
"'Deed and 'deedy, he was!" says Mildred. "Positively the handsomest man I ever saw! I thought I could forget him; but I couldn't, Madge, I couldn't! And only think, he is coming this very night, and not a soul knows but just us two!"
"Excuse me," says I; "but I'm Number Three."
"Oh, oh!" they both squeals at once.
"Who—who's that?" whispers Mildred.