Thus thrown, by his friend's indifference, on his own judgment, Dale made up his mind to send the verses,—he could not deny himself the pleasure,—but, half alarmed at his own audacity, which feeling was a new one in him, he "hedged" by inclosing with them a letter of an apologetic character. Miss Delane was not to suppose that he took the liberty of referring to her in the terms of his title: the little copy of verses had merely been suggested by a remark she made. He had failed to find an answer on the spot. Would she pardon him for giving his answer now in this indirect way?—and so forth.
The verses, with their accompanying letter, were received by Janet, and Janet had no doubt of what she did feel about them, but some considerable doubt as to what she ought to feel; so she carried them to her mother. Mrs. Delane put on her pince-nez and read the documents in the case.
"I'm sure he didn't mean to be—anything but what's nice, mamma," said Janet.
"I dare say not, my dear. The question is, whether the young man knows his manners. Let's see."
After careful perusal, during which Janet watched her mother's face with some anxiety, Mrs. Delane delivered judgment.
"There's no positive harm in them," she said, "and I don't think we need take any actual steps. Still, Janet, he is evidently to be treated with discretion."
"How do you mean, mamma?"
"Well, he isn't in need of encouragement, is he? He's not backward in making friends."
"I suppose not. May I keep them?"