"I did; she went away in a temper."
"It is a pity, aunt. Mrs. Jonah is the only one of the set we have not quarrelled with this year," said Chelda, with, however, but a very faint regret in her tone.
"She was delicious," said Miss Gastonguay, laughing. "She said, 'Jane Gastonguay, you had better put on your peaked cap, take your tomahawk, and point for the woods.' Now wasn't that a delicate reminder of our ancestry, Mr. Huntington?"
"Very delicate, considering its source."
Derrice got up. "Good-bye, Miss Gastonguay, and thank you for a very pleasant afternoon."
"Tut, tut," and her hostess refused to take the offered hand. "You needn't try to make me think you are anxious to get back to Hippolyta Prymmer. Dinner will be ready in an hour. You'll stay, too, Mr. Huntington?"
The clergyman did not reply. Like one mesmerised he turned to Chelda. A subdued pleasure lighted up her face, and, murmuring, "Of course he will," she followed her aunt and Derrice down the staircase.
CHAPTER IX.
TELL ME YOUR SECRETS.