C. S. A.
Jonathan hesitates a minute, then he says:
"Yes, yes, daddy, of course. That's all it is. Forget it—and be careful."
Evelyn cried a good deal now, and lost her color. But how she did love Dave! When they met she would just fly at him! And she'd tell him that it would soon be over now—soon be over. Only, instead of feeling almost like a bride, she'd always burst into tears when she said that. At last Jon figured it all out on a grand scale. Dave and Evelyn were both fooling us. What was going on was preparations for a wedding. Evelyn was making her own trousseau.
"Then, some day, all of a sudden, we'll be up against a wedding and the joke will be expected to be on you and me. Be ready to laugh."
"Jon," says I, touching his head, "some one's getting queer. Is it you?"
"Well, daddy," laughs he, happier than any of them about that wedding, "do you expect a girl to work day after day on her trousseau without tears?"
157
