Apron-Strings Part 41

Satisfied with results, Balcome consulted his watch. "Well, I'm a busy man," he observed, and kissed Hattie.

"Where is your father going?" demanded Mrs. Balcome.

"Where is father going?" telephoned Sue, taking off hat and coat.

"Buffalo."

Mrs. Balcome threw up the hand that was not engaged with the dog. "Oh, what shall we say to Buffalo!" she said tragically. "Oh, how can I ever go back!"

"Mr. Balcome, do you want to settle on some explanation?"

"Advise Hattie's mother"--Balcome shook a warning finger--"that for a change she'd better tell the truth."

"Oh!"--the shot told. "As if I don't always tell it--always!" Then to Sue, "Suppose we say that the bridegroom is sick?"

Inarticulate with mirth, Balcome gave Sue a parting pat on the shoulder and started away.

"But, John!"

Astounded at being thus directly addressed, and before he could bethink himself not to seem to have heard, Balcome brought short, silently appealing to Sue for her opinion of this extraordinary state of affairs.

For Sue knew. There was only one thing that could have so moved Mrs.

Balcome. "Lady dear," she inquired pleasantly, "how much money do you want?"

"Oh, four hundred will do." And as Balcome dove into a capacious pocket and brought forth a roll, which Sue handed to her, "One hundred, two hundred,--three--four----" She counted in a careful, inquiring tone which implied that Balcome might have failed to hand over the sum she suggested. "And now, Hattie, get your things together. We want to be gone by the time that child comes."

"Oh, mother," returned Hattie, crossly, "you're beginning to treat me exactly as Mrs. Milo treats Sue."

No argument followed. For at this moment a door banged somewhere in the Rectory, then came the sound of running feet; and Mrs. Milo's voice, shrill with anger, called from the drawing-room:

"Susan!"

"Mother?" said Sue.

Hattie and her father gravitated toward each other in mutual sympathy.

Then joined forces in a defensive stand behind Sue.

"Now, you'll catch it, Miss Susan!" promised Mrs. Balcome. "Here's someone who'll know how to attend to you!"

"My dear friend," answered Sue, "since early yesterday afternoon, here's a person that's been calling her soul her own."

"Susan!"--the cry was nearer, and sharp.

With elaborate calmness, Sue took up the Kewpie, seated herself, and prepared to look as independent and indifferent as possible.

"Susan!--Oh, help!"

It brought Sue to her feet. There was terror in the cry, and wild appeal.

The next moment, white-faced, and walking unsteadily, Mrs. Milo came from the drawing-room. "Oh, help me!" she begged. "I didn't tell her anything! I didn't! I didn't! How could she find us! That terrible woman!" She made weakly to the stone bench that was nearest, and sat--as Tottie followed her into sight and halted in the doorway, leaning carelessly.

CHAPTER XI

Miss Mignon St. Clair was a lady of resource. Given a telephone number, and a glimpse of a gentleman who was without doubt of the cloth, and she had only to open the Cla.s.sified Telephone Directory at "Churches," run down the list until she came to the number Mrs. Milo had given her, and the thing was done. She disregarded Ikey's repeated "I don't knows" over the wire, donned an afternoon dress for her morning's work (Tottie was ever beforehand with the clock in the matter of apparel), and set forth for the Rectory, arriving--by very good fortune--as Mrs. Milo herself was alighting out of a taxicab.

Now she grinned impudently at the group in a the Close. "How-dy-do, people!" she hailed. "--Well, n.o.body seems to know me today! I'll introduce myself--Miss Mignon St. Clair." She bowed. Then to the figure crouched on the bench, "Say, how about it, Lady Milo?"

"Oh, you must go!" cried Mrs. Milo, rising. "You must! I'll see you--I promise--but go!"

Tottie came out. "Oh, wa-a-ait a minute! Why, you ain't half as hospitable as I am. I entertained the bunch of you yesterday, and let you raise the old Ned." She sauntered aside to take a look at the dial.

"Oh! Oh!" Mrs. Milo dropped back to the bench, shutting out the sight of her visitor with both trembling hands.

Sue went to stand across the dial from Tottie. "What can we do for you?" she asked pleasantly.

Tottie addressed Mrs. Milo. "Your daughter's a lady," she declared emphatically. And to Sue, "Nothin' 's been said about squarin' with me."

"Squaring?"

"Damages."

"Damages?"--more puzzled than ever.

But Balcome understood. He advanced upon Tottie, shaking a fist. "You mean blackmail!"

"Now go slow on that!" counseled Tottie, dangerously. "I aim to keep a respectable house."

"And I'm sure you do," returned Sue, mollifyingly.

It warmed Tottie into a confidence. "Dearie," she began, "I room the swellest people in the whole perfession. That's why I'm so mad. Here I took in that Clare Crosby. And what did she do to me?--'Aunt Clare!'

Think of _me_ swallerin' such stuff! Well, you bet I'm goin' to let Felix Hull know all there is to know, and--the kid is big enough to understand."

Now Sue put out a quick hand. "Ah, but you haven't the heart to hurt a child!"

"Haven't I! You just wait till I have my talk with her 'Aunt Clare'!"

"We haven't been able to locate her."

Tottie's face fell. "No? Then I know a way to git even, and to git my pay. There's the newspapers--y' think they won't grab at this?" She jerked her red head toward the wedding-bell. "Just a 'phone, 'Long lost wife is found, or how a singer broke up a weddin'.'"

"Oh, no!" Hattie raised a frightened face to that upper window of the study.

"By Heaven!" stormed Balcome, stamping the gra.s.s.

"Now, I know you're joking!" declared Sue. "Yes, you are!"