If she had been in the mood to compromise, half of the deferred payment of triumph might have been discharged on the spot by Raymer's blundering attempt at disavowal.
"Why, Miss Margery! I don't know—that is—er—really, you must be mistaken, I'm sure!"
"I am not mistaken, and I'd like to know," she persisted, looking him hardily in the eyes. "It must be something I have been doing, and if I can find out what it is, I'll reform."
Raymer got away as soon as he could; and when the opportunity offered, was besotted enough to repeat the question to his mother and sister. Mrs. Raymer was a large and placid matron of the immovable type, and her smile emphasized her opinion of Miss Grierson.
"The mere fact of her saying such a thing to you ought to be a sufficient answer, I should think," was her mild retort.
"I don't see why," Raymer objected.
"What would you think if Gertrude did such a thing?"
"Oh, well; that is different. In the first place Gertrude wouldn't do it, and——"
"Precisely. And Miss Grierson shouldn't have done it. It is because she can do such things that a few of us think she wouldn't be a pleasant person to know, socially."
"But why?" insisted Raymer, with masculine obtuseness.