“I told Lois right to her face that there was no reason she shouldn’t take a little responsibility, now that she’s settled down with Sweeney,” Papa said. “Naturally, I wouldn’t let my daughter live with strangers, and I wouldn’t let her live with people that couldn’t give her advantages that I couldn’t give her. But, by George, Sweeney is worth plenty of money and he might as well spend it on my daughter as on some orphan from an asylum, some kid with bad blood maybe that’d turn on ’em in the end. I’ve got a hell of a lot of expense right now. I told Lois for the time being I don’t mind somebody else in the family taking over part of the burden if it’s all right with Lena. It won’t be like her own home here, but it’ll be a good experience for her. My dad sent me to live with my Uncle Bill when I was about Lena’s age. Best thing that ever happened to me.”

“She’ll lose whatever manners I’ve drummed into her,” his wife moodily said. “I can just hear them talking about me, telling lies and putting people against me. I noticed Mrs. Chase had a tea yesterday and not a word to me. Every time I go to market somebody makes some remark that shows stories are going around. I’m almost afraid to go downtown.”

So their sister was gone forever, Marcia and Florrie thought with a sense of terror. They met her at Grandma’s after Sunday school. Grandma was having a celebration dinner for the bridal couple, and the girls sneaked in on their way home. This time Lena was very gracious and let Marcia wear her new coral beads all the time she was there, and gave Florrie a red handkerchief with the words, “Twenty-Three Skidoo,” printed on it in yellow. She confided that she had heard about Aunt Lois’s train through telegrams Vance Hawkins had transmitted, and she generously suggested that both sisters run away as soon as possible—“not to Aunt Lois’s though,” she interpolated. She said she wouldn’t stand being bossed by That Woman a second, and they were dummies to take it, and so was Papa. She said so far as she was concerned she was absolutely through with Papa, and it was just like Aunt Lois said, he was a big windbag, always blowing off about something and never really doing anything. Marcia and Florrie exchanged a stricken look over this shocking irreverence.

“Don’t, Lena,” Florrie begged tearfully. “Please don’t talk about Papa that way. Mama wouldn’t like it.”

Marcia longed to confide in Lena that she too was going to run away, but she could not be sure whether Lena would be sympathetic or suddenly go to the grown-ups’ side, blabbing everything so that Aunt Lois would taunt Papa with it and then she’d be locked up. It was a pity you could never trust anybody.