Oh, the real
thing--Cupid place-cards, a floral centerpiece representin' twin
hearts, and all that sort of stuff. I begun to feel as if it was all
over but the shoutin'. Even got to scoutin' around at odd times,
pricin' small apartments and gazin' into furniture store windows.
And then-- Well, it was just a little chat Auntie has over the 'phone
that takes most of the joy out of life. I didn't notice what she was
sayin' at first, bein' busy tryin' to draw out the floor plan of a cute
four-room affair I'd inspected recent. All of a sudden, though, I
pricks up my ears.
"But it's so hot in Jamaica," Auntie is tellin' this friend of
hers--"that is, unless one goes to Montego Bay, and the hotel there--
Oh, Newcastle? Yes, that is delightful, but-- Can one, really? An
army officer's villa! That would be ideal, up there in the mountains.
And Jamaica always routs my rheumatism. For three months? When can we
get a good steamer? The tenth. That would give us time. Well, I
think we shall join you. Let me sleep on it. I'll call you about noon
to-morrow? Good-by."
Meanwhile Vee and I are gazin' blank at each other. We don't need any
diagram to understand what Auntie is up to. Just one of her old
tricks--a speedy packin' up and a casual getaway for Jamaica.
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