"Sure, I heard her say so."
"Well, then———"
Walter interrupted him with a little music. Looking shrewdly at Alice, he sang:
She's my neat thing,
My sweet thing:
I'll go round on Tuesday night to see her.
Oh, how we'll spoon———"
"Walter! "his mother cried. "Where do you learn such vulgar songs?" However, she seemed not greatly displeased with him, and laughed as she spoke.
"So that's it, Alice!" said Adams. "Playing the hypocrite with your old man, are you? It's some new beau, is it?"
"I only wish it were," she said, calmly. "No. It's just what I said; it's all for you, dear."
"Don't let her con you," Walter advised his father. "She's got expectations. You hang around down-stairs a while after dinner and you'll see."
But the prophecy failed, though Adams went to his own room without waiting to test it. No one came.
Alice stayed in the "living-room" until half-past
