Bailey jumped to his feet mechanically at
her mention of his name. He and Dale exchanged one swift and
hopeless glance of utter defeat.
"I wish," proceeded Miss Cornelia, obviously enjoying the situation
to the full, "I wish you young people would remember that even if
hair and teeth have fallen out at sixty the mind still functions."
She pulled out a cabinet photograph from the depths of her
knitting-bag.
"His photograph--sitting on your dresser!" she chided Dale. "Burn
it and be quick about it!"
Dale took the photograph but continued to stare at her aunt with
incredulous eyes.
"Then--you knew?" she stammered.
Miss Cornelia, the effective little tableau she had planned now
accomplished to her most humorous satisfaction, relapsed into a
chair.
"My dear child," said the indomitable lady, with a sharp glance at
Bailey's bewildered face, "I have employed many gardeners in my time
and never before had one who manicured his fingernails, wore silk
socks, and regarded baldness as a plant instead of a calamity."
An unwilling smile began to break on the faces of both Dale and her
lover. The former crossed to the fireplace and threw the damning
photograph of Bailey on the flames. She watched it shrivel--curl
up--be reduced to ash. She stirred the ashes with a poker till
they were well scattered.
Bailey, recovering from the shock of finding that Miss Cornelia's
sharp eyes had pierced his disguise without his even suspecting it,
now threw himself on her mercy.
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