So, when she thought it was about time for him to be coming, out she went again, and down on her knees by the flower bed. The garden gate clicked, but she did not raise her head until Maude spoke. Then she rose, dusted off her hands, and turned.[Pg 292]
“Good after—” she began.
But who was there? Who was that nice boy standing beside Maude, hat in hand, with such an anxious, appealing smile on his young face?
“This is Mr. Jack Rhodes, auntie,” Maude explained.
“Oh!” said Miss Carter.
Then, recovering her senses, she held out a somewhat grimy hand, and the young man seized it in a hearty grasp. His face was scarlet, but his eyes met hers very honestly.
“I—I—it’s—” he said. “I—I hope—”
Miss Carter beamed upon him, to reassure him, but he turned an imploring glance toward Maude. No help did he get from her, however. Never had Miss Carter seen that serious young woman so confused. She actually frowned at the poor fellow.
“I told you auntie wouldn’t mind!” she said reproachfully.
“Yes, I know you did,” said he; “but such short notice—”