"Poor Mr. Bassity!" said Sattie Felton. "I second the motion for reinstating him temporarily!"
Grace Sinclair was not so quick in giving her decision. In her girlish heart she enjoyed the big man's discomfiture, and was mischievous enough to prolong his suspense. She knew that to him her opinion was the most important of all, and this gave her an added pleasure in withholding her verdict. All three looked at her as she bent her pretty brown head and seemed to weigh the question. She was a Southerner, and her French-Spanish blood betrayed itself in her grace, her slender hands and feet, and the type of her dark and unusual beauty. She was more a woman than either Dolly or Sattie, and the fact that Mr. Bassity was desperately in love with her fanned within her breast a wilful desire to torment him.
"Let me think!" she said.
"'Pon my soul!—" began that unfortunate young man, boisterously attempting to sway her judgment.
"Hush!" exclaimed Sattie Felton.
"She's thinking," said Miss Hemingway severely.
Mr. Bassity noisily subsided.
"I don't know whether it's worth while to forgive him," said Grace at last. "He's so incorrigible—so wild and woolly—that if you're nice to him he's like one of those dogs that want to jump all over you!"
"Oh, Miss Sinclair, please, please—!" cried Coal Oil Johnny.
"Well, I won't hang the jury," continued Grace; "only it must be clearly understood that we have the privilege of making a few remarks"