"He is looking after that Smithers girl that ran off," Burleigh answered, absently conveying a generous portion of Mr. Plant's fiery preparation to his mouth. "Joe Brown's cousin, you know"—
He left his sentence unfinished, and caught wildly at a glass of water. The curry had suddenly asserted itself; and the general impression of the unsophisticated Burleigh was that he had taken a mouthful of live coals. He gasped and strangled, growing very red in the face, setting his lips together with a firm determination to swallow the scorching viand, or perish in the attempt.
"Isn't it delicious?" demanded the unconscious host, smacking his lips in unfeigned admiration. "What the devil!" he added, looking up, and catching a glimpse of the agonized face of his guest.
"Papa!" exclaimed Flossy.
"If Burleigh liked curry," Patty said, coming quickly to the rescue, "he would forfeit my good opinion forever. I think it is the most diabolical compound that it has ever entered into the heart of man to invent."
"Besides," her cousin put in, "I won't have you spoiling Mr. Blood's digestion with any of your monstrous mixtures. Think to what a condition you've reduced your own suffering family!"
"Very well," Mr. Plant said, with the air of one who has cast his pearls before swine. "Just as you like."
"But about this Smithers girl," Patty said indifferently. "What does he want of her?"
"He came to get her home again, if he can find her. Somebody saw her on the street in Boston. But her mother says she won't take her back."