“Good-morning, Miss Carruth. Fine sport, ain’t it? May I compliment you on your skating? You ain’t got a rival on the ice, nor off it, neither.”
For a moment Constance was at a loss to place the man, then she recalled his visit to her Candy Arch about three weeks before. It was Elijah Sniffins.
The very audacity of this move deprived her of speech for a moment, and the others with her were too amazed to come to her rescue. Indeed, they did not know the man at all, and, consequently, did not realize the extent of his presumption.
Then Constance came to herself. Looking straight into the man’s eyes, her own ominous with indignation, and her cheeks flushing with resentment, she replied:
“Haven’t you made a slight mistake, Mr. Sniffins? I believe the business matter upon which you called at the Arcade was settled then and there, for I had already made other arrangements. I hardly think there is anything more to be discussed.”
“Oh, that’s all in the sweet bygones. You needn’t think I’ve got to talk business every time we meet any mor’n you have; I just give myself a holiday once in so often just like you do, and this is one of ’em. Great day for a holiday. But, by the way, did you get a nice girl for your counter?—one that’s goin’ to have some snap to her and do a rushin’ business with all the young folks anxious to get rid of their money?”
“She is quite satisfactory, thank you, and good-morning, Mr. Sniffins.”
“Oh, I say, won’t you give me just one turn? Never see anyone could skate like you—”
“Hadyn, isn’t it about time we went home? Just one more spin, please,” and turning toward Hadyn Stuyvesant Constance held out both hands toward him. He had turned to speak to another member of the party, and until that moment had not been aware of Sniffins’ intrusion. At sight of Constance’s face his own changed, and he gave a quick glance at the man, who seemed undecided as to whether it would be wiser to accept his dismissal or persist in his unwelcome attentions. It may have been something in Hadyn’s glance which deterred him, for with another impressive bow he skated rapidly away, muttering:
“Little snob! Thinks she’s out of sight; but she ain’t any better’n others who are makin’ their pile, and I’ll learn her yet.”