“No, indeed.”
“Well, I’ve met Miss Everest—she’s talked with me!”
“She has!” cried Berty, joyfully.
“Yes, she has. You know, after the affair this afternoon some of the people went to town. Miss Everest was shopping.”
“She always does her shopping in the morning,” interrupted Berty. “All the smart set do.”
“Well, I guess she found herself down-town,” said Mr. Jimson, good-naturedly, “and couldn’t get by the shops. Anyway, she was coming out of that fol-de-rol place where you women buy dolls and ribbons.”
“Oh, you mean Smilax & Wiley’s.”
“Yes, that’s the place. She came out of the door, and, turning her head to speak to some one passing her, she almost ran into me. I stopped short, you may be sure, and I know you’ll be mad with me when I tell you that I forgot to take my hat off.”
“Perhaps I won’t,” said Berty, guardedly. “It depends on what follows.”
“I just stood rooted to the spot, and staring with all my might. She grew kind of pink and bowed. I said, ‘Miss Everest,’ then I stopped. I guess she was sorry for my dumbness, for she said, in a kind of confused way, ‘What a stupid place this is. I’ve been all over it trying to match some silk, and I can’t find a scrap.’ And still I never said a word. For the life of me I couldn’t think of anything. Then she said, ‘That was a very good speech of yours this afternoon.’”