aring plan was just
beginning to creep into my brain. "And I will say good-by now, Jack.
Good-by, dear boy, and good luck."

My voice was trembling, and there was a tremor in the deep voice that
answered.

"Good-by, dear little girl. God bless and keep you." The next moment I
was stumbling out of the booth with just one thought, to get home
and bathe my eyes and pull myself together before the arrival of my
mother-in-law.

I was just outside the drug store, and had realized that I'd left
my purchases in the telephone booth, when I heard my name called
excitedly.

From the window of a taxicab Dicky was gesturing wildly, while beside
him a stately woman sat with a bored look upon her face.

My mother-in-law had arrived!

"Madge! What under the heavens is the matter?"

Dicky sprang out of the taxicab, which had drawn up before the door of
the drug store, and seized my arm.

"Nothing is the matter," I said shortly. "I went out to get some cream
for Katie's pudding and some flowers. I stopped here in the drug store
to get some of my headache tablets, and left the flowers and cream.
Some dust blew in my eyes. I suppose that's what makes you think I
have been crying."

"That's you, all over," Dicky grumbled. "Risk not being at home to
greet mother in order to have a few flowers stuck around. Here, come
on and meet mother, and I'll go in and get your flowers." He took my
arm and made a step toward the taxicab.

"No, no," I said hastily. "I know exactly where I left them. I won't
be a minute."

Luckily the flowers and cream were where I had left them. I detest the
idea of arranging any part of one's toilet in public, but I did not
want the critical eyes of Dicky's mother to see my reddened eyes, and
roughened hair, which had been slightly loosened in my hurry.

There was a mirror near the telephone booth at the back of the store.
I took off my fur cap, smoothed back my hair and put on the cap again.
From my purse I took a tiny powder puff and removed the traces of
tears. Then I fairly snatched my parcels and hurried to the door.
Dicky was just entering the store as I reached it. His face was black.
I saw that he was in one of his rages.

"Look here, Madge," he said, and he made no pretense of lowering his
voice, "do you think my mother enjoys sitting there in that taxicab
waiting for you? She was so fatigued by her journey that she didn't
even want to have her baggage looked after, something unusual for her.
T