The other lady frowned.
“I didn’t want an epigram. I wanted to know who this Mr. Banks was, and where you had met him,” she said tartly.
Mabin, seeing what a strong impression her rash words had made wished she had not uttered them. While she was still wondering how she should get out of her difficulty, with as little harm as possible to Mrs. Dale, a sharply uttered question made her start.
“Has he—has this Mr. Banks met M-M-Mrs. Dale?”
She stammered over the lady’s name, just as Mr. Banks himself had done.
“No,” answered Mabin promptly.
And at this answer the old lady, suddenly breaking down in the intensity of her relief, fell back in her chair and gasped out:
“Thank Heaven!”
Mabin’s thoughts moved quickly. Stirred by the excitement of this interview, she tried to find a way of serving Mrs. Dale; and it occurred to her if this fierce old lady could meet Mr. Banks, he would perhaps be able to tone down her ferocity. After a short pause she asked:
“Would you like to see him?”