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[Geddings C. <lo...@so...>]

Sweep the entire choir to her. "Oh, my darlings!" she whispered
hoarsely. "Oh! Oh, mother mustn't see you! Go! Hurry!" As they crowded
to her, she thrust them backward, through the door to the passage. "Oh,
quick! Bobbie! My dears!" Eight were crammed into the shelter of the
passage. Four pressed against their fellows but could not get across the
sill in time. These Sue swept into a crouching line at her back--as the
library door opened, and Mrs. Milo came panting into the room. As mother
and daughter faced each other, Hattie, seated quietly in the bay-window,
smiled at the two--so amazingly unlike. It was as if an aristocratic,
velvet-footed feline were bristling before a great, good-tempered St.
Bernard. In a curious way, too, and in a startling degree, each woman
subtracted sharply from the other. In the presence of Sue, Mrs. Milo's
petiteness became weakness, her dainty trimness accentuated her
helplessness, her delicate coloring looked ill-health; while Sue, by
contrast, seemed over-high as to color, almost boisterous of voice, and
careless in dress. Mrs. Milo's look was all reproval. "Susan Milo," she
began, "where have you been?" Sue was standing very still--in order not
to uncover a vestige of boy. She smiled, half wistfully, half
mischievously. "Just--er--in the Church, mother." She had her own way of
saying "mother." On her lips it was no mere title, lightly u