“Yes, madam; thank you,” said he, bowing.
The carriage drove off, and Mrs. Mechlin said: “He is certainly very handsome. I am sorry for Bob.”
When Clarence returned he met Mercedes in the hall. She was evidently frightened, and so was he, but soon rallied as he followed her into the library.
“Tell me more about home, now that we are alone,” said she, pushing a chair for him, and occupying another on the opposite side of the fire-place, with a graceful affability, which reminded him of his interview with Doña Josefa on the veranda at the rancho.
He understood by her manner and the position of the chairs, which had high backs and high arms, that the interview was to be very formal, and so he took his seat accordingly—far off and demurely.
“Where shall I begin?” said he, with mock gravity.
“Anywhere—at the top with papa, or at the bottom with Tisha. It will all be interesting.”
“Can't I begin at the middle, for instance, with myself?”
“Yes; but you are here—I see you.”
“Do you? At this distance? Don't you want a telescope?”