“Oh, very well, Lucy! Of course _I’m_ to blame as usual. _I_ started it. This is the gratitude I get for overlooking the past and coming here. Poor Mamma, until the day of her death, never could get over the way you treated _her_, and why should I expect anything different? Well, it’s just as you like!” Nannie rose and swept into the hall. Before she could ascend the stairs, John’s step was heard on the porch and the front door was unlocked. “Hello, Nannie!” he almost shouted. “Get your best bib and tucker on. We’re going to see the _Madcap Girl_! It’s a dandy clear evening. You said you wanted to see it and I’ve got tickets. Where’s Lucy? Let’s have dinner at once.” and he passed on into the dining room where Nannie followed him. Lucy, who had gone into the kitchen, reappeared. “Hurry up dinner, Lucy.” John’s manner was impatient. “We’re going to the theatre.” She stopped, with a dish in her hand, and considered an instant. “What about Dimmie?” she asked. John frowned irritably. “Hang Dimmie!” he ejaculated, petulantly. “I should think if Mrs. Hamilton is such a friend as you say she might take care of him one night!” Again Lucy was silent a moment. “All right,” she acquiesced finally. “You don’t seem very jubilant about it,” commented Nannie, who was now all smiles. “_I_ appreciate it,” she added. When they were seated at the table John produced the tickets. “Oh! A box!” cried Nannie, examining them gleefully. “How nice! I’ve wanted to see the _Madcap Girl_ for so long!” “It’s certainly a great play, by all accounts,” observed Lucy acidly. “Why, everybody says the costumes are lovely, and there are some of the newest dances introduced,” contended Nannie. “I’ve been crazy to see it.” “We can’t afford a box, and besides I’ve no clothes suitable for a box.” Lucy’s voice grew sharper with each word. “If you _would_ throw away money, John, why didn’t you pick out something worth seeing? I’d rather have seen Ethel Barrymore in _Midchannel_, even if I sat in the gallery, than this nasty, silly thing in the best box in the house!” “Why, you can see _Midchannel_ too,” interrupted John, somewhat crestfallen. “No, I can’t. We’ve spent twice as much on theatres already this month as we ought to in half a year!” “Well, Lucy, Nannie especially wanted to see this play, and I think we ought _sometimes_ to sacrifice our own tastes for her.” “I’m sure I didn’t know John was going to get tickets when I innocently said I had wanted to see the play,” said Nannie. “I don’t see that I am to blame for it.” “No one’s to blame, Nannie,” championed John. Then, turning to Lucy, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, Lucy. If you don’t want to go, say so.” “Yes, indeed,” chimed in Nannie. “I don’t need to go. It’s not a matter of life and death. In fact I have had a little headache anyway, although _I_ wouldn’t _think_ of spoiling the evening after poor, dear John has been so thoughtful.”