On the hotel piazza she found the minister waiting for her, and with him Scarlett. To the latter she had not spoken since the day of their difference, for such she chose to consider it, in regard to Gelly. True, more than once she had caught sight of him galloping down the road or striding by on some official errand, but never had she lifted a finger to delay him, nor he appeared conscious of her presence.
DEPARTED IN A GLOW OF SELF CONGRATULATION AT HER TACT.
Ignoring his greeting, in high good humor with herself and all the world, Evelyn opened fire. "Mr. Maclane, I wish you would tell that young man he owes me an apology."
Scarlett suppressed a gratified smile. "Mr. Maclane, will ye convey to the speaker that she'll have to prove the debt for me to pay it?"
"Tell him the last time we met he put me in the wrong," said Evelyn, prettily, the glow of her goodness toward the envious Graysons still upon her. "He behaved as though he thought me narrow, contemptible—and the worst is, the shoe pinches, because in a tiny degree I fear it may have been true."
She waited with a charming air of penitence for contradiction, but, to her astonishment, none came.
Instead, "I'm a brute, just," Scarlett remorsefully described himself. "Who am I to hold ye up the looking-glass? I'll never be so rude again."
"Oh"—Miss Durant stiffened perceptibly—"I do not usually find the reflection unbearable to contemplate."