"
"Say," I whispers, nudgin' Vee, "what is he to-day?"
"Why," says she, "why--er--I don't quite know. He collects antiques,
for one thing."
"Does he?" says I. "Then maybe he's after Auntie."
First off Vee snickers, after which she lets on to be peeved and
proceeds to rumple my hair. Clyde catches her at it too, and looks
sort of pained. But Auntie's too much interested in the reminiscences
to notice. Yes, there's no discountin' the fact that the old girl was
fallin' for him hard.
Not that we thought much about it at that time. But later on, when I
finds he's been droppin' in for tea, been there for dinner Saturday,
and has beat me to it again Sunday evenin', I begins to sprout
suspicions.
"He seems to be gettin' the habit, eh?" I suggests to Vee.
She don't deny it.
"Who's doin' the rushin'," says I, "him or Auntie?"
Vee shrugs her shoulders. "He came around to-night," says she, "to
show Auntie some miniatures of the late Alicia. She asked to see them.
Look! They are examining one now."
Sure enough they were, with their heads close together. And Auntie is
pattin' him soothin' on the arm.
"Kind of kittenish motions, if you ask me," says I. "She's gazin' at
him mushy, too."
"I never knew Auntie to be quite so absurd," says Vee.
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