I was glad we had both got over our excitement and were sitting decorously at several inches’ distance apart when the judge drew the grays up to the gate and we both went down to the sidewalk to ask him and the lovely long lady to come in.  They couldn’t; but we stood and talked to them long enough for Mrs. Johnson to get a good look at us from across the street and I was afraid I would find Aunt Adeline in a faint when I went into the house.

Miss Chester was delightfully gracious about the dinner—­I almost called it the debut dinner—­and the expression on the judge’s face when he accepted!  I was glad she was sitting sidewise to him and couldn’t see.  Some women like to make other women unhappy, but I think it is best for you to keep them blissfully unconscious until you get what you want.  Anyway, I like that girl all over and I can’t see that her neck is so absolutely impossibly flowery.  However, I think she might have been a little more considerate about discussing Alfred’s London triumph over the Italian mission.  As a punishment I let Tom put his arm around my waist as we stood watching them drive off and then was sorry for the left gray horse that shied and came in for a crack of the judge’s irritated whip.

Then I refused to let Tom come inside the gate and he went down the street whistling, only when he got to the purple lilac he turned and kissed his hand to me.  That, Mrs. Johnson just couldn’t stand and she came across the street immediately and called me back to the gate.

“You are tempting Providence, Molly Carter,” she exclaimed decidedly.  “Don’t you know Tom Pollard is nothing but a fly-up-the-creek?  As a husband he’d chew the rope and run away like a puppy the first time your back was turned.  Besides being your cousin, he’s younger than you.  What do you mean?”

“He’s just a week younger, Mrs. Johnson, and I wouldn’t tie him for worlds, even if I married him,” I said meekly.  Somehow I like Mrs. Johnson enough to be meek with her and it always brings her to a higher point of excitement.

“Tie, nonsense; marrying is roping in with ball and chain, to my mind.  And a week between a man and a woman in their cradles gets to be fifteen years between them and their graves.  I’m going to make you the subject of a silent prayer at the next missionary meeting, and I must go home now to see that Sally cooks up a few of Mr. Johnson’s crotchets for supper.”  And she began to hurry away.

“I don’t believe you’ll be able to make it a ‘silent’ session about me, Mrs. Johnson,” I called after her, and she laughed back from her own front gate.  Marriage is the only worm in the bud of Mrs. Johnson’s life, and her laugh has a snap to it even if it is not very sugary sweet.

When I told Judy about the dinner-party and asked her to get the yellow barber to come help her and her nephew wait on the table she grinned such a wide grin that I was afraid of being swallowed.  She understood that Aunt Adeline wouldn’t be interested in it until I had time to tell her all about it.  Anyway, she will be going over to Springfield on a pilgrimage to see Mr. Henderson’s sister next week.  She doesn’t know it yet; but I do.