“Come on, Harry, get out your guitar,” Bonnie urged. “Girls, do make your father play like old times. I don’t get to London Junction much any more, and I’d like to hear him for old time’s sake.”

Papa said brusquely that he had no time to tinker around like that any more. His wife sat stiffly on a straight chair, biting her fingernails and glaring at Bonnie’s taking liberties with the piano. She could not resist getting a cloth finally and wiping off the keys the minute Bonnie took her hands off of them. The other girl who had come with Bonnie sat on the lap of her escort quite as if it was a matter of form rather than pleasure. She and Bonnie had come over from Lesterville, where Bonnie now worked, in the young man’s automobile and they were driving back late that night. Bonnie was still pretty, but had new city ways such as crossing her plump legs rather high, showing her clocked black silk stockings and a pleated ruffle of purple taffeta petticoat. She had a purple silk scarf wound round her head for motoring, with strands of black hair looped out over her pink cheeks, and she had a rose silk jersey suit.

“Going with the boys yet, Lena?” she asked, which caused Lena to look in hasty apprehension at her stepmother.

“Yes, she does,” Marcia jealously answered for her.

“I do not!” Lena flared up, glancing from her father to stepmother.

“Lena’s my girl,” Vance said. “Prettiest girl in the Junction, if you ask me.”

“Florrie’s my favorite,” Bonnie said, picking up Florrie affectionately. “Remember when I used to look after you, Florrie? Remember what fun we used to have at the hotel—you girls and your father and—”

“Florrie was too little to remember,” Papa said in a harsh voice.

“No, no, I do so remember,” Florrie cried out. “I remember Bonnie because she was always good to us, always, always.”

“I’m glad somebody remembers me,” Bonnie said. Vance pinched her cheek and Papa abruptly got up and left the room.

“Hey, Harry, how about fixing us a little treat?” Vance called out. “I bring in some company; you might treat ’em right.”

Minelda, who had enjoyed being the center of attention at her baptism, began to whimper at Florrie being petted, so her mother took her off to bed. At the door She paused, trying to catch Marcia’s or Lena’s eyes and thus convey a disciplinary silent warning, but both girls carefully avoided this opportunity, because they wanted to stay up with Bonnie.

“I don’t think we’re very welcome here,” said Bonnie’s girlfriend. “Your sister glared at me as if she could eat me alive, Vance.”

“She does that to everybody,” Marcia reassured her.

“Oh, she does?” Bonnie asked, with lifted eyebrows.

“Come on now, let’s have ‘On Mobile Bay,’ ” Vance said, pulling Bonnie down to the piano bench again, this time on his lap.

Papa came back in the room with a plate of gingersnaps, and stopped dead in front of the piano just as Vance was nuzzling Bonnie’s neck.