Publisher's Synopsis
"Where's Emily?" "Dunno, Aunt Judy. Shall I go a-hunting?" "No, no, Rod. Betty-Nell-doesn't anybody know where Emily is?" "Did anybody ever know!" "You see," Aunt Judy whispered discreetly, "the minister's here." "Oh, that! Well, tell him Emily's gone walking with the Swami. That'll give him one crowded hour of glorious life--" "Leave all to me; I'll take care of the cloth. What's a best man for?" Burton Lamb stepped to Aunt Judy's side, and murmuring "lead me to him" left the room with her. In a small reception room they found the Reverend Mr. Garner seated in a truly ecclesiastical attitude on the edge of a chair. He was of an austere and ascetic type, and his fundamental beliefs were written plainly in his square, set jaw, and his snapping black eyes. Aunt Judy had snapping black eyes, too, but of quite a different snap. Lamb went through his part of the introduction with his usual nonchalant grace, and sat down sideways on a chair to see what he could do about it.
