Hugh gave her a brilliant smile in which eyes and lips coöperated with great effect.
“It won’t matter much, Aunt Susanna. There is only one perfect girl in Farrandale, and I’ve found her.”
Miss Frink grasped the arms of her chair.
“Hugh Sinclair!” she gasped. “Why, I never even thought of Millicent Duane!”
He leaned toward her and spoke low. The smile vanished under his aunt’s aghast eyeglasses.
“Set your X-ray going, Aunt Susanna. See the modesty, the honesty, the purity, the frankness, the unselfishness, the charm of total goodness—”
“Did you come down here to tell me this?”
“No. I never said a word to her until this morning on the way; and she refused me. She’s afraid of you. She believes herself too humble and obscure to suit you, and she says she’d rather die than marry me if it didn’t please you. She loves you, too, Aunt Susanna. She appreciates you.”
Miss Frink’s firm resolution of an hour ago recurred to her. Her surprise was so absolute that she leaned back in her chair, speechless.