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Joyce looked at his wife in astonishment. Then he tried again. "What 1b the matter? Is your mother coming?"
"Louie Joyce!" If she had imagined before that she had cause for anger she knew it now. "I know you do not care for poor dear mamma, but that is no reason why you should think I will sit by and let you talk of her as you please."
"Why, for the love of Pete, what did I say about your mother? I only asked if she was coming again. You know you were all tired, out and worried the last time she sent word she waB coming." Joyce was getting discouraged, but he was determined to make peace if possible. "No, mamma is not coming. Now, go ahead and grin. You might at least have manners enough to conceal your pleasure at the news. You are just as cruel as you can be, and
"For goodness sake ring off, Esther!" Joyce was getting irritated.
"Yes. yes, that's right. Get slangy and insulting. I'll try to bear it." Mrs. Joyce was feeling like a martyr.
"You'll try to bear it? What have you to bear?"
"Oh, nothing. Of course you are an angel, and suppose I am the reverse."
"Yes, that's about right," acquiesced Joyce, trying desperately to get a smile from her. "Everybody says
"So you have be«rti discussing me, have you? Oh, you are cruel! I'm going back to majnma this very night!" Mrs. Joyce rushed from the room.
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