she adds.

"That's why I'm takin' a chance," says I, "that if I stick around I
might--well, I'm shy of grandmothers to steal orchids from, anyway."

Vee chuckles at that. "Isn't Cousin Eulalia too absurd?" says she.
"And since you're still here--why--well, let's not stand in the hall.
Come in."

"One minute," says I. "Where's Aunty?"

"Out," says she.

"What a pity!" says I, takin' Vee by the arm. "Tell her how much I
missed her."

"But how did you happen to come up today?" asks Vee.

"There wa'n't any happenin' to it," says I. "I'd got to my limit,
that's all. Honest, Vee, I just had to come. I'd have come if there'd
been forty Aunties, each armed with a spiked club. It's been months,
you know, since I've had a look at you."

"Yes, I know," says she, gazin' at the rug. "You--you've grown,
haven't you?"

"Think so?" says I. "Maybe it's the cut-away coat."

"No," says she; "although that helps. But as we walked in I thought
you seemed taller than I. Let's measure, here by the pier glass. Now,