THE MEMOIRS Of A BABY
want to be known as the wife of that handsome Mr. Wilbour—heavens! About the hair—" Susy paused reflectively. "I suppose everybody is allowed a few preferences she can't account for, Aunt Emma, and that happens to be one of mine. I do like a man with a full head of hair!"
Aunt Emma shook her head helplessly. Susy's character—though she sometimes felt it the wildest hyperbole to refer to it in that way—had consistently baffled her comprehension from the day of their acquaintance.
But no one who knew Aunt Emma could imagine for a moment that a comparative and temporary failure could induce her to abandon any legitimate effort. Even as she sighed she took a claret-colored volume from the library table and removed her paste-board marker.
"Shall we have a little reading, my dear?" she inquired.
Susy wriggled deeper into the pillows of the divan.
"I am all ready, Aunt Emma."
"I forgot to tell you that we are not going on with the Parkman, Susy. I was discussing this matter with Harriet Strenway, and she suggested that it might be a little too stimulating in the present state of things. All the battles, of course. . . . I reminded her that the examples of
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