"Well, well! if this isn't a surprise to shock your grandmother and throw your granddaddy into hysterics!" he exclaimed, coming up to them, making a bow that almost threw them into the titters, over its profound ridiculousness. "Why, when did you come here?" he asked, as if he had not known beforehand.
"We have been here for two weeks," answered Edith, respectfully, although she abhorred him.
"You certainly look better, Miss Jarney; you, too, Miss Barton," he said, with a protracted smile of the wheedling variety. "This rarefied atmosphere, away from the Pittsburgh smoke, appears to agree with you two, charmingly."
"It does very well; very well," said Edith, disinclined to be friendly.
"I hope we may see each other often, Miss Jarney—and Miss Barton," he continued, insinuatingly. "If you two have not dined I should deem it a favor to have your company."
"Thank you; we have already dined," responded Edith.
"If you will excuse me, then, I will perform that necessary duty myself," he returned. After a sweeping bow and another wheedling smile that he might as well have kept to himself, he left them.
"I do hope we will not be bored to death by that young man," said Edith.
"What will we do, Edith?" asked Star. "If we remain here and he remains here, it will be rather awkward to get rid of him."
"Oh, we will show him what respect we can without losing our own self-respect," said Edith. "I wonder what brought him here?"