"Do you think they'll get a divor"
"Ida's coming with cream, mother. Well, spring is really here, I guess."
"Yes, we saw a yellow-spotted tortoise moving under the leaves in the pond."
"Ugh!" said Mrs. Hartley, taking more than her share of the cream. "Disgusting!"
"Mrs. Green says Joe's wife's just going away for a little rest and change," said Mrs. Harrison, eagerly, as the swing door swished behind Ida. "But you know her; anything connected with that wonderful son of hers is perfect."
"I wonder if things are wrong in that quarter?" said Hartley, looking bright and pleased. "Tck! I hope not; I sincerely hope not!"
"It's a skinch they are, though," remarked his grandmother, who liked to feel she was keeping up with modern slang.
"I was just wondering— Oh no!"
"Now, Hartley, what?"
"Nothing, really; it was wrong of me to suggest it."
"Now, son, no fair teasing!"
"Well, I was simply thinking about that Mr. Levinson I met at their home. He looked to me like a victim of the tender passion, and milady didn't seem exactly indifferent."
"My goodness! I— Mother, what are you doing?"
"Picking up my handkerchief, with your kind permission."
