Again Helen’s temper slipped its leash. She turned toward Anne, looking down on the girl who was a half head shorter than Helen.
“Oh, don’t you sleep in the house?” she said with so much insolence in the simple words that Richard flushed to his hair, and Kit found himself as hard put to it for self-control as little Anne had been in “making her act.”
“Miss Dallas does not sleep at her post; she boards near by, and all day and every day helps me in every way that her charity can devise,” said Richard. “Please do not go yet, Miss Dallas. I want your advice as to the next act, but more I want the honour of taking you home myself.”
“Good-bye, Mr. Latham,” said Kit, grasping his host’s hand so tight that he winced. “I’m proud and grateful that you let me come here. Good-bye, Miss Dallas. Come, little Anne; you’re going to be taken home by me. Helen? Are you ready?”
Helen made her adieux with her most charming grace, including Anne Dallas in her cordiality. She had allowed her temper to get away from her, but she had no mind to let it be the final impression which she left behind her. She was far too wise to stir men to championship of another girl, however her inferior in wit and beauty that girl might be.
Anne Dallas, with heightened colour, responded quietly to Helen’s farewell. She did not betray the slightest annoyance.
“She surpasses in breeding as she does in all other ways,” thought Richard, listening to Anne’s courteous replies, spoken in her soft alto voice.
“Good-bye, you darlingest! You very sweetest and darlingest!” cried little Anne, hugging Anne Dallas, and voicing what they all felt, though the feeling puzzled the child.
Kit left little Anne at her own door; she had walked in utter silence, holding his hand tight, while Helen chatted cheerfully, ignoring little Anne.
“What a queer, thin, dark, clever little creature!” exclaimed Helen after they had bade the child good-night. “Even bright children bore me. I don’t care for crudity in any form. I daresay your least Anne will make a clever woman.”