"Oh," I ejaculated, drawing in a long breath of surprise.
"If you had met me in a pudding pot you wouldn't have known me," and she laughed with an amused gayety. "You might get stirred up in the mush, but I wouldn't, I'm too large."
"Polly Morrison," was all I could say.
"I came yesterday afternoon. This is my first visit home, though I've trotted up and down the Mississippi until I know every turn and every town. I have a husband who hardly lets me out of his sight and he has never found it convenient to come to Chicago. Perhaps he is afraid he might see some other woman he would like for a wife, he had such astonishing luck before. And how Chicago has changed! All the old houses have been built on to, and the stores and warehouses! It can't hold a candle to New Orleans, and Kaskaskia is a gay old town, but you're coming on. Is this Chris?"
"No," and I explained.
"We're just out for a flyer. I took mother along so that people would be the more likely to recognize me. This afternoon we must go calling. I suppose I ought to stay at home and let the neighbors call on me, but I want to see them so. And poor Mrs. Hayne is a widow. Ben gone off to college, is it? Homer getting rich and peopling the town, but the other one is abroad—married to some French marquise, I suppose, and Chris going to be a minister. Lots of other changes. There! You may look to see me some day."
Her talk had been a swift dazzle, and made you feel as if some one had whirled you around.
"What a talker," said John. "And what a handsome woman. She looks fit to be a queen!"
We hurried home. I was anxious to have the dinner all right, and I didn't exactly want Dan to see me coming home with young John Gaynor. Why, I could not explain altogether to myself.
Jolette was just dishing up when Dan entered. He should not accuse me of secrecy this time.