Martin better. Perhaps Alix brought to her sister with a whiff of
the old atmosphere, the old content, the old pride, and the old
point-of-view. Presently the visitor boldly suggested that they
should both go home together for the wedding, and Martin, to
Cherry's amazement, agreed good-naturedly.

"But, Mart, how'll you get along?" his wife asked, anxiously. She
had fumed and fussed and puttered and toiled over the care of
these four rooms for so long that it seemed unbelievable that her
place might be vacated even for a day.

"Oh, I'll get along fine!" he answered, indifferently. Cherry,
with a great sigh of relief and delight, abandoned the whole
problem; milk bottles, fire wood, groceries, dust, and laundry
slipped from her mind as if they had never been. On the last day
of August, in the cream-coloured silk and the expensive hat again,
yet looking, Alix thought, strangely unlike the bride that had
been Cherry, she and her sister happily departed for cooler
regions. Martin took them to the train, kissed his sister-in-law
gaily, and then his wife affectionately,

"Be a good little girl, Babe," he said, "and write me!"

"Oh, I will--I will!" Cherry looked after him smilingly from the
car window. "He really is an old dear!" she told Alix.




CHAPTER VI