Miss Frink’s cheeks flushed. “Why, indeed, should you criticize him? You did the same.”
“Only I didn’t carry my point. You never liked me.”
“Nor were you really my niece,” said Miss Frink briefly. “Adèle,” she added—and there was appeal in her voice—“in this nine days’ wonder that is coming upon Farrandale I wish that, for the sake of such hospitality as I have shown you, you would help to give the true explanation of Hugh’s manner of introducing himself here. It was Mr. Ogden’s idea entirely, inasmuch as I had not been friendly to Hugh’s family. The sequel you know.”
Adèle’s stolid expression did not change, and she did not speak.
Miss Frink sat, looking at her and waiting.
“The truth generally comes out about everything,” said the young woman at last.
“Adèle, Adèle,” said Miss Frink solemnly. “Why won’t you try to make your life measure up to the beauty of your art? What I heard last evening will be buried forever, as you know, unless you yourself force a remembrance of it.” She looked at her watch. “Leonard will take you over to Mrs. Cooper’s as soon as you are ready.”
Miss Frink went out and closed the door. For the first time in her life she quivered with feeling. Her cheeks were flushed.
At the foot of the stairway she met John Ogden.
“Just the lady I want to see!” he cried cheerfully.