Peggy’s eyes swept the assemblage of old friends, and their faces seemed blurred. No one spoke. Her father stood beside her, grim-faced, stunned.
“I’m sorry,” said Peggy simply, and went back toward the stairs.
Slowly the crowd gathered up their belongings and went away. Even Uncle Hozie was shocked to sobriety. Finally there was no one left in the big living-room except Honey Bee. He took off his shoes and coat and was going toward the front door when Laura Hatton came down the stairs. She had been crying.
Honey stared at her and she stared at Honey.
“Huh-howdy,” said Honey, bobbing his head. “Nice weather.”
Then he tried to bow, and the effort pulled the waistband of his pants away from his belt. He made a quick grab, and saved the day.
“Oh, why did you have to come and tell her a thing like that?” asked Laura. “Why didn’t you lie like a gentleman?”
“Lie like a gentleman?” Honey stared at her, his hands clutching the coat, shoes and waistline.
“Yes—lie!” said Laura fiercely. “You could have told that Joe had to chase horse-thieves, or something like that.”
“Uh-huh,” grunted Honey. “Well, yeah, I could.”