“Say, is he Annie’s feller?”
“Hush!” said Dave Duggan.
Dick drank his tumbler of iced tea with violent haste, and even Johnny looked disconcerted. Annie said something about the roses.
“The thing I miss most in South Bend are the gardens,” she said. “You know we are all working people on this side of the river, and there are no old houses, so there are no beautiful big gardens. I had to walk far out into the country for those.”
“Won’t you have anything more?” Johnny inquired hospitably. “Take another helping of something? You won’t? Oh, now, take a taste of this! No? Well, let’s go into the parlor, Annie.”
If Annie held back, no one saw it. They went into the best room, where Johnny set all the gas burners flaring, that the full glories of the decorations might strike the visitor, who, indeed, saw nothing but Annie’s set face.
“Miss Graham,” he said, “you are coming East again in September, aren’t you?”
“I think not; I think I must never leave father again. He is not very strong, and I want to be with him.”
“Oh, yes, quite so,” Dick answered, “but”—
“But what, Mr. Temple?”