"She had no pincushion, she has a pin tray."
"I hardly see how it matters, Babbie; it was on her bureau, anyway! Just
like a servant girl!" Mrs. Toland persisted.
"Well, anyway, it seemed best to push it right through," said Jim,
"especially as they persisted that they would do it again or die--or
rather, Sally did!"
"Oh, Jim, _don't_!" wailed Sally's mother. "Poor, deluded child!"
"I don't mean that Keith wasn't fiery enough," Jim hastened to say.
"He's a decent enough little fellow, and he's madly in love. So we all
went up to the French church, and Father Marchand married them--"
"A child of mine!" said Mrs. Toland, stricken.
"Keith's father and I witnessed," pursued Jim, "and we both kissed the
bride--"
"Sally! And she was such a dear sweet baby!" whispered Mrs. Toland, big
tears beginning to run down her cheeks.
"Ah, Mother!" Constance said soothingly, at her mother's knees.
"Sally's of age, of course," Jim argued soothingly, "and one couldn't
bring her home like a child. The thing would have gotten out, and she'd
have been a marked girl for life! There's really no _reason_ why they
shouldn't marry, and the boy--Keith, that is, put her into a carriage
quite charmingly, and they drove off.
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