And to Peter Hyde's consternation Nancy did burst into tears.
"For Heaven's sake, Nancy, what——"
"I'm just—mad," Nancy blurted from behind a handkerchief. "The—the cats!" She lifted her head, relieved by her sudden outburst. "It's that Mrs. Eaton again! She's—just—getting even!" She told what Webb had said. "And here's the—party—and no one will come! Aunt Sabrina will never, never get over it. And B'lindy—I wish I could run away."
Peter Hyde wanted very much to laugh, but the real distress in Nancy's face touched him. He patted her consolingly.
"Can't I do something? Can't Webb and I round 'em up at the point of a gun?"
"N-no, it's too late! We've just got to act as though the—the garden was full and make the best of it! I wanted it to be such a success. I wanted it to be a party that Nonie 'd never forget. And I wanted everyone to see Aunt Milly! Oh, why, oh, why doesn't something happen!" For Nancy had suddenly remembered the huge pails of ice-cream and the cake that was "like as a twin to the one my mother made for the Gov'nor."
At that moment the loud whirring of an automobile caught their attention. Nancy, red-eyed, peeped from behind their bush.
"It's at our gate!" she cried. "Peter——" she clutched his arm. From the tonneau a tall man was alighting. To Nancy there was something vaguely familiar in the sharp-featured, clean-shaven face and in the mass of wavy white hair that fringed his coat collar.
"Peter, it's—it's—Theodore Hoffman!"