Bob sniffed. “He used to have the name of liking anything that was fast,” he said; and was immediately sorry that he had said it. Esther looked at him.
“Now what do you mean by that?” she queried.
Bob hesitated and then replied that perhaps he had not meant anything in particular.
“Why didn’t you tell me he was here?” he added. “How long has he been with you in this house?”
“Why, I don’t know; ten days or so. How could I tell you before? I haven’t seen you for more than two weeks. And I wrote you in my letter that we were expecting some one.”
“You didn’t tell me his name.”
“Why should I? I didn’t suppose the name would mean anything to you. I hadn’t the least idea that you knew each other.... Bob, what is the matter with you this evening? I never saw you so queer. When Uncle Foster was asking you about going abroad you scarcely answered him. And you were almost rude to Mr. Covell. The way you glared at him! I am awfully afraid he noticed it; I don’t see how he could help it. I was ashamed of you. What is it all about?”
He was glowering at that moment, not at her, but at the carpet.
“He seems to have made himself mighty popular in his ten days,” he observed, bitterly. “Look here! Is he going to take part with you in that ‘Pinafore’ thing?”
“Certainly he is. The committee were at their wits’ end to know who to pick for the Ralph Rackstraw part. His coming was the luckiest thing that ever happened. He sings well and he has had lots of experience in amateur theatricals. And he was so nice about it. He didn’t want to take the part, here, among strangers.... What did you say?”