There was a quizzical smile upon Kate’s face as she passed down the steps of the bank and turned up the street on another errand. She was walking with her eyes bent upon the sidewalk, thinking hard, when her way was blocked by Mrs. Abram Pantin extending a high supine hand with the charming cordiality which distinguished her best social manner. Mrs. Pantin slipped her manner on and off, as the occasion warranted, as she did her kitchen apron.
The suddenness of the meeting surprised Kate into a look of astonishment.
“This is Miss Prentice, isn’t it?”
“That’s the general impression,” Kate answered.
Mrs. Pantin registered vivacity by winking rapidly and twittering in a pert birdlike fashion:
“I’ve so much wanted to know you!”
The reply that there always had been ample opportunity seemed superfluous, so Kate said nothing.
“I’ve been reading about you, you know, and I want to tell you how proud we all are of you and of what you have accomplished. This is Woman’s Day, isn’t it?”
Since she seemed not to expect an answer, Kate made none and Mrs. Pantin continued:
“I’ve been wanting to see you that I might ask you to come to me—say next Thursday?”