Emily smiled faintly.
“She seems to think so.”
“Mother well?” Garwood asked.
“Yes—you must go right over and see her.”
“I’m pretty tired to-night.”
“Yes, I know, Jerome, but it wouldn’t do. You must go right away when you have done your supper.”
Having thus disposed of all the necessary topics, Garwood rather hesitatingly approached the subject that lay on the hearts of both.
“How does the post-office appointment seem to strike them?”
He kept his eyes downward on the cigarette he was pinching.
“I don’t hear much about it,” Emily answered. And she colored. “You read the papers, of course.”