The next day and the next it was much the same. On the third day she saw Jane.
“Where’s Mr. Smith?” demanded Jane, without preamble, glancing at the vacant chair by the table in the corner.
Miss Maggie, to her disgust, could feel the color burning in her cheeks; but she managed to smile as if amused.
“I don’t know, I’m sure. I’m not Mr. Smith’s keeper, Jane.”
“Well, if you were I should ask you to keep him away from Mellicent,” retorted Mrs. Jane tartly.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean he’s been hanging around Mellicent almost every day for a week.”
Miss Maggie flushed painfully.
“Nonsense, Jane! He’s more than twice her age. Mr. Smith is fifty if he’s a day.”
“I’m not saying he isn’t,” sniffed Jane, her nose uptilted. “But I do say, ‘No fool like an old fool’!”