d of tinkles like
little silver bells. But just the same he never brings her.

He never takes her anywhere. I heard Aunt Hattie tell Mother so at the
very first, when he came. She said they weren't a bit happy together,
and that there'd probably be a divorce before long. But Mother asked
for her just the same the very next time. And she's done it ever
since.

I think I know now why she does. I found out, and I was simply
thrilled. It was so exciting! You see, they were lovers once
themselves--Mother and this Mr. Harlow. Then something happened and
they quarreled. That was just before Father came.

Of course Mother didn't tell me this, nor Aunt Hattie. It was two
ladies. I heard them talking at a tea one day. I was right behind
them, and I couldn't get away, so I just couldn't help hearing what
they said.

They were looking across the room at Mother. Mr. Harlow was talking to
her. He was leaning forward in his chair and talking so earnestly to
Mother; and he looked just as if he thought there wasn't another soul
in the room but just they two. But Mother--Mother was just listening
to be polite to company. Anybody could see that. And the very first
chance she got she turned and began to talk to a lady who was standing
near. And she never so much as looked toward Mr. Harlow again.

The ladies in front of me laughed then, and one of them said, with a
little nod of her head, "I guess Madge Desmond Anderson can look out
for herself all right."

Then they got up and went away without seeing me. And all of a sudden
I felt almost sorry, for I wanted them to see me. I wanted them to see
that I knew my mother could take care of herself, too, and that I was
proud of it. If they had turned I'd have said so. But they didn't
turn.

I shouldn't like Mr. Harlow for a father. I know I shouldn't. But
then, there's no danger, of course, even if he and Mother were lovers
once. He's got a wife now, and even if he got a divorce, I don't
believe Mother would choose him.

But of course there's no telling which one she will take. As I said
before, I don't know. It's too soon, anyway, to tell. I suspect it
isn't any more proper to hurry up about getting married again when
you've been _un_married by a divorce than it is when you've been
unmarried by your husband's dying. I asked Peter one day how soon
folks did get married after a divorce, but he didn't seem to know.
Anyway, all he said was to stammer: "Er--yes, Miss--no, Miss. I mean,