“Not in the least,” Donald replied, as he placed a chair for her. “I am very glad to have the pleasure of meeting you, Miss Bascom.”
“I heard last night that you had arrived, Mr. Maxwell; and I am sure that it is very good of you to come and see papa so soon. I hope to see you at our house before long. You know that we are in the habit of seeing a good deal of the rector, because—you will excuse my frankness—because there are so few people of culture and refinement in this town to make it pleasant for him.”
“I am sure that you are very kind,” Donald replied. Miss Bascom had adjusted her tortoise-shell lorgnette, and was surveying Donald from head to foot.
“Is your wife with you?” she inquired, as one who would say: “Tell me no lies!”
“No, I am not married.”
At once she was one radiant smile of welcome:
“Papa, we must do all we can to make Mr. Maxwell feel at home at Willow Bluff—so that he will not get lonesome and desert us,” she added genially.
“You’re very kind.”
“You must come and dine with us very soon and 44 see our place for yourself. You are staying with Mrs. Burke, I understand.”
“Yes.”