Mary explained.

"I don’t like the idea," said the old lady, shaking her head. "Somethin’
will be sure to happen. I can feel it runnin’ up and down my bones this
minute."

"Oh, if he can get into trouble, of course, Jack will," said Mary
cheerfully.

Aunt Mary didn’t hear her, because she didn’t raise her voice
particularly. Besides, the old lady was absorbed for the nonce in the most
dismal sort of prognostications.

And they all came true, too. Something unfortunate beyond all expectations
came to pass during the glee club’s visit to Chicago, and the result was
that, before the new year was well out of its incubator Jack had papers in
a breach-of-promise suit served on him. He wrote Mr. Stebbins that it was
all a joke, and had merely been a portion of that foam which a train of
youthful spirits are apt to leave in their wake; but the girl stood solid
for her rights, and, as she had never heard from her fiancé since the
night of the dance, her family—who were rural, but sharp—thought it would
take at least fifteen thousand dollars to patch the crack in her heart. If
the news could have been kept from Aunt Mary until after Mr. Stebbins had
looked into the matter, everything might have resulted differently. But
the Chicago lawyer who had the case took good care that the wealthy aunt
knew all as quickly as possible, and it seemed as if this was the final
straw under which the camel must succumb.

And Aunt Mary did appear to waver.