"No," said Mrs. Stillwater, "we’re satisfied as long as you love us. But don’t let anyone else take our place." She pressed her lips to Indiana’s soft hair, crying silently. Indiana tightened her arms about her mother’s waist, unaware of the tears that were falling on her yellow puffs. "Well, then," said Mrs. Bunker, "just put on your things and come and have supper with us at the hotel. All the Americans in town will be there, beside the English celebrities. Come along. I’ll show you the whole push." "I’d love to go." "We’ll have a good time, if it is Sunday night. Well, what are you sitting there for? Get your things on." "I must ask my husband," said Indiana, slowly, the eager sparkle suddenly dying in her eyes. Mrs. Bunker sank down in the chair, from which she had sprung in her enthusiasm. "Indiana Stillwater, I never thought you would turn out such a spiritless kind of a woman. Of course it’s none of my business, but if you start in this way, you’ll lose your entire individuality." "It’s not so, Grandma Chazy. I do just as I like. I allow no one to compel me." "You’re quite right to ask your husband, and, if it’s against his religious views, you stay home and read the Bible to his mother." Mrs. Bunker went to the mirror, arranging her hat, as if the question had been settled. "It’s not so!" exclaimed Indiana, rising and stamping her foot. "You don’t understand the conditions of life over here." "It’s the thing in London now, to dine out on Sunday nights. You can’t tell me, Indiana Stillwater." "It may be the thing, but we don’t do it. Must I tell you again I have married into a very conservative family?" "We’re not good enough for you, now," replied Mrs. Bunker, sarcastically. "I’ll always love my own people, but I won’t be blind to their faults. We lack culture and repose." "You may be right, Indy," said Mr. Stillwater, hitherto a silent listener. "But if you keep cultivating a field of wheat right along, you’ll cultivate it till it doesn’t produce anything. They’re running to seed fast here—and we’re still bearing strong. Repose! Let them have it. Thank heaven, we youngsters are always on our feet. Now, mother!" Mrs. Stillwater was crying. At the sight of her tears Indiana capitulated. "I’ll come, mother," she said, despairingly, throwing herself on her knees beside her. "Darling!" cried Mrs. Stillwater. "Don’t you think we ought to ask Thurston?" "I’ll ask him, of course," said Indiana, "but I’m sure he won’t come." "We’ll manage without him," said Mrs. Bunker. "On second thoughts, I think we’ll send for you, Indiana." She looked significantly at the others. "We’ll send for her at eight o’clock." They nodded. "That’ll just give you time to dress. We’ve another surprise in store for you." They all laughed. "Ah, don’t tell me. It’s so nice to look forward to something one don’t expect." "Take off that dowdy thing," directed Mrs. Bunker. "Go back to your trousseau."