"Wondering what?"
There was something in the set of the shoulders, in the swing of them as the man walked away, in the poise of the head, that had impressed Harriet Burrell as being vaguely familiar. Something of this must have been reflected in the Meadow-Brook Girl's face, judging from the guardian's next question.
"Of what are you thinking, dear?"
"I have seen that man before, Miss Elting."
"Where?"
"I don't know. My memory connects him with something unpleasant. I wish I knew what it is, for I am positive there is something wrong with him. Wait! I know! I know of whom the man reminds me. Can't you see it? Don't you know?" cried Harriet eagerly.
The guardian shook her head.