“With her blessin’—­or what?” I asks.

“As to that,” says Mr. Robert, “I am not informed.”

Anyway, we had time to brace ourselves.  Vee had only finished changing and the bags was bein’ sent down to the taxi when in she comes.

“Young man—­” she begins.

But I heads her off.

“Why, Auntie!” says I, lettin’ on to be surprised, and holdin’ out both hands.  “You don’t know how we missed you.  Honest!  All my fault, though.  But say, with your stickin’ to that years-and-years idea, what else could we do—­I ask you?”

And then I notices that them straight-cut mouth corners of hers ain’t set near so hard as I thought.  Her eyes ain’t throwin’ off sparks, either.  They’re sort of dewy, in fact.  And when she does speak again there’s a break in her voice.

“Come,” says she, beckonin’ us up.  “Perhaps you know best, after all, you silly children.”

I’ll bet we made a fine group, too, the three of us, Auntie in the middle, givin’ us the fond clinch.

“But such impudence of you, to do it right here!” she goes on.  “No one but you, Torchy, would have thought of that.”

“Had to,” says I, “with everything else barred.  I suspected it might bump you some, but—­”

“Pardon me,” breaks in Mr. Robert, “but it’s time for you to start for your train.”

“Train!” says Vee.  “Torchy, where are we going?”

“Just a sec.,” says I, “till I look at the tickets.”

So the last I heard from Auntie was a gasp.