"Oh, you must not be too hard on her," he replied. "We, who are so much older, must learn to make allowance for the thoughtlessness of youth."
Mr. Ainger happened to be several years older than Salome Grant. It was not, therefore, entirely agreeable to her feelings that he should thus class her with himself amongst the seniors who must learn to tolerate the foibles of youth, though in other connections, his use of the first person plural would have afforded her the utmost gratification. She had always imagined herself quite young in comparison with him.
"I will ask Juliet about it when she comes in," was all she could now find to say.
And the curate rose to take his departure.
As she was accompanying him to the hall door, Mrs. Tracy and Juliet entered the house. The curate's face brightened as Mrs. Tracy greeted him in her cheerful, kindly way. Juliet, though she privately thought him a very ugly and uninteresting man, had a smile for Mr. Ainger as she shook hands with him. He looked with fascinated eyes at the fresh young face, into which the keen air had brought such a lovely glow, and at the golden locks curling so prettily beneath her little fur cap. Salome saw his look of admiration, and her tones as she addressed her sister were more severe than she intended.
"Did you give a sovereign to Mrs. Malins when she was here the other day, Juliet?"
"Mrs. Malins!" repeated Juliet. "I don't know any Mrs. Malins. Why should I give her a sovereign?"
"She is a woman belonging to my district," said Salome. "A wretched ragged creature, who came to the house with her miserable children."
A confused, guilty look came to Juliet's countenance.
"Oh yes," she said hurriedly, "I must own to that act of imprudence; but what does it matter, Salome?"