“Where do you suppose Vic can be?” Honor was saying. “I really feel quite anxious about her. Vic, are you here?” she called, coming into the house. “Why, child, what happened to you? Here she is, Katherine, working on the typewriter. What made you run away, Vic?”
“Shy,” replied Victoria, as she slowly fingered the keys.
“Nonsense!” said Katherine. “It was something else, Vic. You never were shy in your life.”
“Frightened, then,” said Victoria.
“Frightened? What at?”
“Miss Madison’s big brother.” Which was certainly the truth.
“Vic, how absurd!” cried Katherine. “He is just as nice as he can be. Wasn’t it too ridiculous that we should have supposed that he was a small boy of Peter’s age? We had a great laugh over it, and I was really glad that we had made the mistake, for it was such a joke it quite broke the ice. I feel as if I had known them both for years, don’t you, Honor?”
“Yes, they are very nice, both of them,” replied her sister, “and I am very glad, girls, that you made me go there to call. After all, it would have been silly to hold aloof from them just because we are poor. I don’t think they are at all the kind to look down on us because we are—”
“Of course not,” said Katherine with some impatience. “They are true gentle-people, and not in the least snobbish. The mother is lovely, Vic.”
“Is she?”