met her with a hearty, "Hello, bride-elect!" Oliver
had shouted, "Greetings, Mrs. Prof!" And Madge, his wife, had tucked a
tissue-paper-wrapped package under Ruth's arm: "My engagement present,"
she explained. "Just a half-a-dozen little guest-towels with your
initials."

Later at the table Tom had cleared his throat and then remarked, "I like
all I hear of this Robert Jennings. He's good stuff, Ruth. You've
worried us a good deal, but you've landed on your feet squarely at last.
He's a bully chap."

"And he's got a bully girl, too, now that she's got down to brass
tacks," said Alec in big-brother style.

"Decided on the date?" cheerfully inquired Tom. "Elise said to be sure
and find out. We're coming on in full force, you know."

"Yes, the date's decided," flashed Edith from the head of the table.
"June 28th. It'll be hot as mustard, but Hilton will be lovely then, and
all the summerites here. You must give me an hour on the lists after
dinner, Kidlet. Bob's list, people, is three hundred, and Ruth's four,
so I guess there'll be a few little remembrances. The envelopes are half
directed already. I want you people to know this wedding is only seven
weeks off, so hurry up and order your new gowns and morning coats.
Simplicity isn't going to be the keynote of this affair."

"Hello!" exclaimed Tom abruptly, "I haven't inspected the ring yet.
Let's see it. Pass it over, Toots."

Ruth glanced down at her hand. It was still there--Bob's unpretentious
diamond set in platinum--shining wistfully on Ruth's third finger.

She started to take it off, then stopped and glanced over at me. "I
think I'll tell them, Lucy," she said. "I've got something to tell you
all," she announced. "I'm wearing the ring still, but--we've broken our
engagement. I'm not going to marry Robert Jennings after all."

It sounded harsh, crude. Everybody stared; everybody stopped eating; I
saw Tom lay down his fork with a juicy piece of duck on it. It had been
within two inches of his mouth.

"Will you repeat that?" he said emphatically.

"Yes," complied Ruth, "I will. I know it seems sudden to you. I meant to
write it, but after all I might as well tell you. My engagement to
Robert Jennings is broken."

"Is this a joke?" ejaculated Edith.

"No," replied Ruth, still in that calm, composed way of hers. "No,
Edith, it isn't a joke."

"Will you explain?" demanded Tom, shoving the piece of duck off his fork
and abandoning it for good and all.