"You'll keep me posted?"
Susan nodded a seemingly joyful assent.
The young man stepped down on the pavement; as if in sudden thought he turned back. "Who was that young fellow I saw with Mr. Holloway yesterday?"
Susan grinned with affability. Having lied once with ease, she did it now with grace. "Dat? Dat's Marse Edward Montague, sah!"
"And who is he?"
"De—laws—a—me! Don't you know? Dat's Miss Frances' beau."
Susan, when she saw the look which flashed into his eyes, knew she had scored for many things; she had scored for Miss Frances' white cheeks and dark, troubled eyes; she had scored for her own loneliness without her.