“Oh, the usual round of wearing domestic affairs, with a new item added.”
“Ahem!” exclaimed the voice; “it would seem the young Southerner has arrived. Is it so?”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Gaston, dryly, “she has.”
“If I were not too generous, I should say, ‘I told you so,’” went on the voice. “I have observed that Southern importations into Northern climates are usually attended with certain disadvantages.”
“Oh, she’s a very nice little thing,” said Mrs. Gaston, carelessly, “I think something can be made of her.”
“And you are to have the pleasure of conducting the process of development, and Edward and I that of looking on at it—is that it? Where is she, by-the-way? Is there any danger of one’s meeting her on the stairs, and having to account for one’s self? A civilized man, encountered unexpectedly, might unsteady the nerves of the Importation—might he not?”
“Possibly,” said Mrs. Gaston; “but there’s no danger. I’ve given her a room far away from yours; so you will still have the privilege of keeping unearthly hours without disturbing any one.”
“Thank you; that’s very considerate; but I must be off. I want to get some papers from my room, and then I must go to keep an appointment.”
“Of course! I shouldn’t know you if you hadn’t an appointment. It wouldn’t be you. Go on; but be prompt at dinner.”
“You may count upon me. And, by-the-way, you’ll let me know whenever you’d like me to do anything for your young friend’s entertainment. I shall not be likely to know the tastes and predilections of the Importation, but if you think of anything I can do, I am at your service.”