“Aw, I was just foolin’, Julie,” he said weakly.
“You saw me sitting out on the church steps last night,” Julie stated clearly and concisely. “Now, what of it?”
“Nothing, Julie, nothing,” he repeated, still retreating sheepishly before her, and uneasily aware that they were attracting attention from the small group of station loafers. But Julie was swept above herself. What people thought, or what they said was a thing beneath her feet now. She did not even hear one of the loafers call out, “That’s right. Miss Julie! Don’t take any foolishness off’n Ed! You got him on the run now. Keep it up!”
“I sat out on the steps because I wanted to,” she continued fiercely. “And what I do is no concern of yours, nor of anybody else’s.”
Edward Black fell away without another word, and Julie continued her progress, still blown along by the gust of her rage. Presently she met Bessie Randolph, who was the wife of Silas Randolph, the president of the bank, a very important person in Hart’s Run.
“See that couple there,” Mrs. Randolph said, joining Julie and pointing out the small man and his companion, who had been met by Wilson McLane, editor of the Hart’s Run News. “The man must be the new printer for the News. Mr. McLane told me he was expecting him by this train. That must be his wife with him.”
“No, it’s his sister,” Julie corrected positively. She was not in the habit of contradicting.
“Oh, then you’re acquainted with them?” the other challenged.
“I never saw them before, but I noticed them on the train, and I know she’s his sister.”
“Well, they don’t either of them look like much,” Mrs. Randolph said with a careless dismissal. “Come on Julie, I’ll ride you home; my car’s right here.”