“It’s just something they’re all saying Mrs. Pennock said—about me.”
“What was it?” Two little red spots had come into Miss Maggie’s cheeks.
“Yes, what was it?” Mr. Smith was looking actually belligerent.
“It was just that—that they weren’t going to let Carl Pennock go with me any more—anywhere, or come to see me, because I—I didn’t belong to their set.”
“Their set!” exploded Mr. Smith.
Miss Maggie said nothing, but the red spots deepened.
“Yes. It’s just—that we aren’t rich like them. I haven’t got—money enough.”
“That you haven’t got—got—Oh, ye gods!” For no apparent reason whatever Mr. Smith threw back his head suddenly and laughed. Almost instantly, however, he sobered: he had caught the expression of the two faces opposite.
“I beg your pardon,” he apologized promptly. “It was only that to me—there was something very funny about that.”
“But, Mellicent, are you sure? I don’t believe she ever said it,” doubted Miss Maggie.