"Poor Miss Elder! I don't know what she'll do!"
"I don't know what he'll do. He can't go back to college."
"He'll have to go to work."
"I'd like to know where—nobody'd hire him in this town."
The girl could bear it no longer. She came to the door, and there, as they paused to speak to her, her purpose ebbed again.
"My daughter, Vivian, Mrs. Williams," said her mother; and the other callers greeted her familiarly.
"You'd better finish your lessons, Vivian," Mr. Lane suggested.
"I have, father," said the girl, and took a chair by the minister's wife. She had a vague feeling that if she were there, they would not talk so about Morton Elder.
Mrs. Williams hailed the interruption gratefully. She liked the slender girl with the thoughtful eyes and pretty, rather pathetic mouth, and sought to draw her out. But her questions soon led to unfortunate results.