"Oh, mother, no!" Sue followed, and caught at her mother's arm. "Not today! There's a dear, sweet mother!" "Sue!" cried Hattie. Her look questioned the other anxiously. But Mrs. Milo felt no concern for the minister. She freed herself from Sue's hold. "You seem very much worried about him," she returned jealously, staring at Sue. "You think he's unhappy?" persisted Hattie. "There!" exclaimed Sue. "You see, mother? Hattie's worried, too. It's natural, isn't it, Hattie?" "Well, it's all nonsense," pronounced Mrs. Milo. "He isn't unhappy. Wallace has known him longer than we have, and he says Mr. Farvel has always been like that." Sue patted her mother's cheek playfully. "Then let's not make him any sadder," she said. "Everything must be 'Bless you, my children' around this place today. We don't want any 'Earth to earth, ashes to ashes.'" She gave her parent a hearty kiss. Mrs. Milo was at once mollified. "I hope," she went on gently, "that Mr. Farvel didn't have to know why Hattie is being married here instead of in Buffalo." Sue made a comical face. "I explained," she began roguishly, "that the Rectory is--er--neutral territory." "Neutral," repeated Hattie, with a hint of bitterness. Once more a jealous light had crept into Mrs. Milo's blue eyes. "Why should you give Mr. Farvel the confidences of the 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."