he family?" she demanded.

"I had to." Sue threw up helpless hands. "Mr. Balcome refused to walk
down the aisle with Mrs. Balcome after the ceremony. That meant no
Church. Then he refused to have her stand beside him in here. But he
can't refuse to gather on the lawn!"

"Sue," said Hattie, "you have a trusting nature."

"But what's he afraid of?" Sue asked. "She wouldn't bite him."

"_Who wouldn't bite who?_"

The three turned toward the vestibule door. A large person was
entering--a lady, in an elaborate street gown of a somewhat striking
plum-color, crowned by an ample hat with spreading, fern-like plumes.
About her throat was a veritable cascade of white crepe collar; and
against the crepe, carried high, and appearing not unlike a decoration,
was a tiny buff-and-black dog.

"Ah, my dear!" cried Mrs. Milo, warmly.

Sue chuckled. "I was just remarking, Mrs. Balcome," she replied, "that
you wouldn't bite Hattie's father."

Mrs. Balcome, her face dyeing with the effort, set down the tiny dog upon
the cherished Brussels. "Don't be so sure!" she cautioned. She had a
deep voice that rumbled.

Hattie pointed a finger at Sue. "Ah-h-a-a-a!" she triumphed.

"Ah-h-a-a-a-a!" mocked her mother. Then coming closer, and looking the
wedding-dress over critically, "Rehearsing, eh, in your wedding-dress!
What would Buffalo think if it saw you!" With which rebuff, she sank,
blowing, upon the couch, and drew Mrs. Milo down beside her.

"Oh, why didn't you have your parents toss up?" asked Sue.

"Pitchforks?" inquired Hattie.

"No! To see which one would be unavoidably called out of town."

"Oh, I've tried compromise," said the girl, wearily.

"Well, ABC mediation never was much of a success up around Buffalo," went
on Sue, her eyes twinkling with fun. "Ho-hum! The Secretary of
State"--she indicated herself--"will see what she can do." And strolling
to the sofa, "Mrs. Balcome, hadn't we better talk this rehearsal over
with the head of the house?"

Mrs. Balcome swept round. "Talk?" she cried. "Talk? Why, I never speak
to him."

Sue gasped. "Wha-a-at?"

"Never," confirmed Hattie. "And he never talks to her--except through
me."

Sue was incredulous. "You mean----" And pantomimed, pointing from an
imaginary speaker to Hattie; from Hattie to a second speaker; then back.

"Exactly."

Sue pretended to be overwhelmed. She sank to a chair. "Oh, that sounds
wonderful!" she cried. "I want to try