“All right, Di,” said Lulu humbly.

* * * * *

It was nearly six o’clock when they arrived at the Deacons’.  Mrs. Bett stood on the porch, her hands rolled in her apron.

“Surprise for you!” she called brightly.

Before they had reached the door, Ina bounded from the hall.

“Darling!”

She seized upon Di, kissed her loudly, drew back from her, saw the travelling bag.

“My new bag!” she cried.  “Di!  What have you got that for?”

In any embarrassment Di’s instinctive defence was hearty laughter.  She now laughed heartily, kissed her mother again, and ran up the stairs.

Lulu slipped by her sister, and into the kitchen.

“Well, where have you, been?” cried Ina.  “I declare, I never saw such a family.  Mamma don’t know anything and neither of you will tell anything.”

“Mamma knows a-plenty,” snapped Mrs. Bett.

Monona, who was eating a sticky gift, jumped stiffly up and down.

“You’ll catch it—­you’ll catch it!” she sent out her shrill general warning.

Mrs. Bett followed Lulu to the kitchen; “I didn’t tell Inie about her bag and now she says I don’t know nothing,” she complained.  “There I knew about the bag the hull time, but I wasn’t going to tell her and spoil her gettin’ home.”  She banged the stove-griddle.  “I’ve a good notion not to eat a mouthful o’ supper,” she announced.

“Mother, please!” said Lulu passionately.  “Stay here.  Help me.  I’ve got enough to get through to-night.”

Dwight had come home.  Lulu could hear Ina pouring out to him the mysterious circumstance of the hag, could hear the exaggerated air of the casual with which he always received the excitement of another, and especially of his Ina.  Then she heard Ina’s feet padding up the stairs, and after that Di’s shrill, nervous laughter.  Lulu felt a pang of pity for Di, as if she herself were about to face them.

There was not time both to prepare supper and to change the blue cotton dress.  In that dress Lulu was pouring water when Dwight entered the dining-room.

“Ah!” said he.  “Our festive ball-gown.”

She gave him her hand, with her peculiar sweetness of expression—­almost as if she were sorry for him or were bidding him good-bye.

“That shows who you dress for!” he cried.  “You dress for me; Ina, aren’t you jealous?  Lulu dresses for me!”

Ina had come in with Di, and both were excited, and Ina’s head was moving stiffly, as in all her indignations.  Mrs. Bett had thought better of it and had given her presence.  Already Monona was singing.

“Lulu,” said Dwight, “really?  Can’t you run up and slip on another dress?”

Lulu sat down in her place.  “No,” she said.  “I’m too tired.  I’m sorry, Dwight.”

“It seems to me—­” he began.

“I don’t want any,” said Monona.