Why had Callandar let him in for this? Why was he waiting around for anyway? There he was, shaking hands with some one else—this time it was the girl who had laughed.
"May I present my friend, Professor Willits, Miss Coombe?"
The girl extended a graceful hand and for an instant the professor was permitted a look into eyes which caused him to set his firm lips somewhat grimly.
"And I know, Willits, you will be delighted to meet our pastor, Mr.
Macnair."
A spark began to glow in the professor's eye, but Callandar's face was guileless. The minister shook hands with professional heartiness, but his gaze, Willits thought, was wandering. He began to feel interested.
"Very fine day," he remarked imperturbably.
"Lovely, lovely," agreed the minister, still heartily. The mauve lady was waiting for the pastoral handshake, but he did not notice her. He was watching the dark girl talking to Callandar.
"What is so rare as a day in June?" said Willits, with deliberate malice.
"Ah, yes, very much so. Delighted to have met you. You will excuse me, I'm sure. Annabel," with an impatient glance toward a stout, awkward woman in the background, "if you are not quite ready I think Miss Coombe and I will walk on." He moved toward the dark girl as he spoke and Willits followed.
"Then I'll have to come some other day to get the roses," they heard Callandar say. "But remember I haven't a single flower in the office. So it will have to be soon."