“I’m sure we are all very much indebted to Mr. Faradeane for his heroic rescue of Bessie Alford, very much so—ahem!” and she coughed again. “I hope it will prove a lesson to her. All these things, if properly viewed, are sent for our good.”
“Mr. Faradeane was certainly sent for Bessie’s, on this occasion,” said Olivia, strangely irritated by her aunt’s half-suspicious, half-irritating manner.
Bertie, with his usual promptitude, cut in to set matters on an easier footing.
“I’m glad to hear Bessie’s better. I called as I was going up to the house. And now, Olivia, I’ll bet you two to one in Dent’s best that you don’t guess what Miss Amelia wants me to do.”
“May I have three tries?” said Olivia, with a smile.
“Something good and laudable, I am sure,” said Faradeane.
Miss Amelia’s gaze softened, and she bridled and smiled.
“Oh, thank you, Mr. Faradeane,” she simpered.
“Is it to subscribe to the Mothers’ Sewing Club?” said Olivia.
“No,” said Bertie.