‚ÄúCertainly not‚ÅÝ‚Äîhave we‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù Miss Mary faltered. This beginning was a bit ominous, wholly unexpected.
‚ÄúThere is a girl, Zora, who has just entered, who‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI must speak candidly‚ÅÝ‚Äîwho ought not to be here; I thought it but right to let you know.‚Äù
‚ÄúThank you, so much. I‚Äôll tell Miss Smith.‚Äù Mary Taylor suddenly felt herself a judge of character. ‚ÄúI suspected that she was‚ÅÝ‚Äînot what she ought to be. Believe me, we appreciate your interest.‚Äù
A few more words, and Mr. ¬ÝCresswell, after bending courteously over her hand with a deference no New Englander had ever shown, was riding away on his white mare.
For a while Mary Taylor sat very quietly. It was like a breath of air from the real world, this hour‚Äôs chat with a well-bred gentleman. She wondered how she had done her part‚ÅÝ‚Äîhad she been too eager and school-girlish? Had she met this stately ceremony with enough breeding to show that she too was somebody? She pounced upon Miss Smith the minute that lady entered the office.
“Miss Smith, who do you think has been here?” she burst out enthusiastically.
“I saw him on the lawn.” There was a suspicious lack of warmth in this brief affirmation.
“He was so gracious and kindly, and he knows my brother. And oh, Miss Smith! we’ve got to send that Zora right away.”