Exclaiming, “Oh, I’ve left my stick!” he returned to the guest room, and came out again, carrying the stick in question.
I felt sure the stick was a blind of some sort, but I couldn’t see how he had found any clue in the guest room, and I was weary of the farce anyway.
What did he expect to find? As far as I could see, he hadn’t found anything at all.
“Well, Dora,” he said, as we regained the porch, and were about to leave. “You’ve been very kind. You can tell Miss Remsen and your parents all about it, and tell them you behaved just exactly right.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“Has Miss Remsen a beau?”
“She’s not engaged, sir, but several young men are sweet on her.”
“Who?” I cried, feeling that I’d like to knock the several heads together.
“I think Mr. Billy Dean is the nicest,” Dora said, apparently quite willing to gossip.
“Miss Remsen is never ill, is she?” March broke in.