Lily flushed instantly, bridled, and smiled. “Who do you s’pose?” she returned.
“I don’t believe your mother knew you had that theatrical man to drive with you,” said Laura, bluntly.
“Why, how you talk! I merely met Signor Pizotti, and took him up——”
“You don’t know who he is,” spoke Laura.
“Oh, indeed, Miss! And do you?” demanded Lily, rather sharply.
“No, And I don’t want to know him.”
“He is a very scholarly man—and he knows all about staging this play. If it wasn’t for him, I guess, ‘The Spring Road’ would suffer from frost,” said Lily, with an unkind laugh.
“That may be,” said Laura, flushing a little herself, for any slur cast upon her chum’s play hurt her, too. “But his knowledge of how to produce or stage a play does not establish his private character.”
“Pooh! you are interfering in something that you know nothing about,” declared Miss Pendleton, loftily. “And it does not concern you at all.”
“I do not believe your mother would approve,” ventured Laura.