“I am willing to do anything in my power—” began Anderson, with a softened glance at the absurdly pathetic little figure, “but—”
“Then you think I had better not trust them?”
“No; I said—”
“You think I had better send her word I've changed my mind, and can't do her work?”
Anderson winced. “No; I did not say so,” he replied, vehemently. “I merely said that you must settle—”
“Then you think I had better keep on with it?”
“If you think best,” said Anderson, emphatically. “Really, Mrs. Griggs, I cannot settle this matter for you. You often trust people in your business. You must decide yourself.”
The dressmaker arose. “Well, I guess it's all right,” said she. “She's a lovely girl, and so are they all. Her mother seems sort of childish, but she's real sweet-spoken. I guess it's all right, but I'd heard some things, and I thought I would ask you what you thought. I thought it wouldn't do any harm. Now I feel a good deal easier about it. Good-afternoon. What a tempest we've had!”
“Yes,” said Anderson. “Good-afternoon.” He was conscious of a mental giddiness as he regarded her.
“We needed it, and I do think it has cooled the air a little. I'm very much obliged. I don't suppose there is any use in my offering to pay you, now you're in the grocery business?”