“I don’t know her,” declared the child.
“Is she walking?” inquired Lilith.
“No’m—I mean, Miss Brooks—she’s standin’ up, ’thout she’s sed down.”
Annette walked across to the window and craned her neck to try to see over the edge of the veranda roof.
“No, no,” laughed Lilith; “I meant, did she come in a car?”
“No, Miss Brooks, she didn’t; she just came—like Miss Blackstone and Miss Foster and Mrs. Shaw and—”
“Never mind, dear,” interrupted Polly, cutting short Annette’s list of the neighbors. “I will see what she wants.”
She ran down lightly. It was probably an agent—their calls were not infrequent.
Beyond the doorway a girl with her back to the entrance was taken up with the distant view. Polly caught her breath—and then stepped out to greet her visitor.
“How do you do, Marietta? This is a surprise, indeed!”