Harry turned to Miss Stuart. “I heard of your arrival in New Haven, the other evening,” he said. “The fellows told me of your experiences; but I got away from the hotel too early next morning to pay my respects.”
“Then you didn’t hear of the burglar, did you?” queried Hugh.
In spite of Miss Sallie’s protestations the whole story had to be gone over again.
Barbara was talking to Ralph Ewing and had not looked at Harry Townsend during the conversation, until he came over to speak to her.
“I have half an idea, Miss Thurston,” he said, “that you do not like me, and I am sorry. I was looking forward to our having good times together at Newport, as I am to be Mrs. Erwin’s guest, with your cousin Miss Le Baron. Mrs. Post asked us on for the yacht trip a day or two sooner than we expected. We are all going up to Newport together.”
“Mr. Townsend,” said Barbara, her usually laughing, brown eyes now steadfast and serious, “I wonder why you think I do not like you?”
“Miss Stuart,” begged Mrs. Post, after the governor had conducted the party over his trim little craft, “you must stay and dine with us on board the yacht to-night. I refuse to take no for an answer. I wish I could keep you over until morning, but unfortunately the yacht is too small.”
Miss Sallie protested. No; they couldn’t think of it. They had come aboard only for a call, and must get back to their hotel before night. But Hugh swept all her arguments aside. He was an adored only son, and accustomed to having his own way. To tell the truth, Miss Sallie was not averse to the idea of staying; it was pleasant to be meeting Newporters in advance. Miss Stuart was a woman who thought much of appearances, and of this world’s goods, and their new acquaintances seemed to have plenty of both.
“It’s an ill wind,” she thought to herself, “and I must say, for my young niece, that she has a habit of falling on her feet.”
But aloud Miss Sallie accepted the invitation with much decorum.