“Not so thrilling as this lady. She carried the crowd, absolutely.”
Natalie turned and stared at Audrey, who was flushed with annoyance.
“You!” she said. “Do you mean to say you have been talking from that wagon?”
“I haven't said it. But I have.”
“For heaven's sake!” Then she laughed and glanced at Rodney. “Well, if you won't tell on me, I'll not tell on you.” And then seeing Audrey straighten, “I don't mean that, of course. Clay's at a meeting to-night, so I am having a holiday.”
She moved on, always with the soft rustle, leaving behind her a delicate whiff of violets and a wide-eyed clergyman, who stared after her admiringly.
“What a beautiful woman!” he said. There was a faint regret in his voice that Audrey had not presented him, and he did not see that her coffee-cup trembled as she lifted it to her lips.
At ten o'clock the next morning Natalie called her on the 'phone. Natalie's morning voice was always languid, but there was a trace of pleading in it now.
“It's a lovely day,” she said. “What are you doing?”
“I've been darning.”