It was the first and original Mr. Rhodes.
“Good gracious!” cried Miss Carter. “What ever are you doing here?”
Suddenly she was aware that she was very hot and tired and flustered, that her hair was untidy, that she was wearing a rumpled and unbecoming calico dress. She also remembered that she was sternly displeased with Mr. Rhodes, and had intended him to see her like this; but she was still more displeased with him because he did so see her.
“If you’ll go out on the veranda,” she said, “I’ll have the dinner ready in a—”
“I want to help you,” he told her.
“Certainly not!” replied Miss Carter. “Please go out on the veranda!”
But he did not go.
“They’re out there,” he said. “They don’t want me.”
Miss Carter faced him squarely.
“Who is that young man?” she demanded. “I can’t understand—”