Young Payne turned away and strolled slowly back to the Waring home, wondering what it was about the disagreeable young woman that made him pay any attention to her at all.
He found her the topic of discussion when he arrived.
“Of all rude people,” Mrs. Peyton declared, “she was certainly the worst!”
“She was!” Helen agreed. “I couldn’t make her out at all. And I don’t call her pretty, either.”
“I do,” observed Emily Bates. “I call her very pretty,—and possessed of great charm.”
“Charm!” scoffed Helen; “I can’t see it.”
“She isn’t rude,” Pinky defended the absent. “I’m sure, Mrs. Peyton, she made her adieux most politely. Why should she have stayed longer? She didn’t know any of us,—and, perhaps she doesn’t like any of us.”
“That’s it,” Gordon Lockwood stated. “She doesn’t like us,—I’m sure of that. Well, why should she, if she doesn’t want to?”
“Why shouldn’t she?” countered Tyler. “She’s so terribly superior,—I can’t bear her. She acts as if she owned the earth, yet nobody knows who she is, or anything about her.”
“Are we entitled to?” asked Lockwood. “Why should we inquire into her identity or history further than she chooses to enlighten us?”