Every one laughed all the more at this.
“That’s just what Mr. Farron said you would say at finding that Mama was dressed in time,” exclaimed Mathilde, casting an admiring glance at her stepfather.
“You’d suppose I’d never been in time for dinner before,” remarked Adelaide, giving Wayne her long hand.
“But isn’t it wonderful, Pete,” put in Mathilde, “how Mr. Farron is always right?”
“Oh, I hope he isn’t,” said Adelaide; “for what do you think he has just been telling me—that you’d always hate me, Pete, as long as you lived. You see,” she went on, the little knot coming in her eyebrows, “I’ve been telling him all the things I said to you yesterday. They did sound rather awful, and I think I’ve forgotten some of the worst.”
“I haven’t,” said Pete.
“I remember I told you you were no one.”
“You said I was a perfectly nice young man.”
“And that you had no business judgment.”
“And that I was mixing Mathilde up with a fraud.”