Janet laughed. "That's no sign. I've heard lots of men say that. Virginians almost always do, and some of the Maryland men, especially those from the lower counties, and you hear it from men of the other Southern States."
"Oh, dear, suppose he should be a gentleman. Now, I think of it, he talked like a Southerner."
"If he was, he took your message and will come back and report."
Just then the door opened, and the light of the countryman's lantern fell upon the figure of a young man with face glowing from the sharp air, and with clothing snow-sprinkled. He looked around the car from one to another, then he addressed Rosalie. "Your carriage will be here soon, I hope. They promised to send one as soon as possible, but they were all out when I gave the order."
"Oh, thank you," said Rosalie struggling between a desire to laugh and a feeling of self-reproach.
Janet clutched her spasmodically, and Rosalie turned to see, by the dim light, confusion and surprise upon her face.
"What's the matter?" she whispered, as the young man took a seat at the further end of the car.
Janet moved up to the other extreme end and Rosalie followed her.
"What is it?" she repeated.
"Don't you know?" said Janet. "Don't you know? It is Mark, the perfect man."