Mr. Smith bit his lip, and stole another sidewise glance.
“Er—how did you enjoy it? Did you have a good time?”
“Oh, yes, very.”
There was a brief silence. Mr. Smith drew a long breath and began again.
“I had no idea Mr. James Blaisdell was so fond of—er—books. I had quite a chat with him in his den.”
No answer.
“He says Fred—”
“Did you see that Gaylord girl?” Miss Maggie was galvanized into sudden life. “He’s perfectly bewitched with her. And she—that ridiculous dress—and for a young girl! Oh, I wish Hattie would let those people alone!”
“Oh, well, he’ll be off to college next week,” soothed Mr. Smith.
“Yes, but whom with? Her brother!—and he’s worse than she is, if anything. Why, he was drunk to-night, actually drunk, when he came! I don’t want Fred with him. I don’t want Fred with any of them.”