“Undoubtedly,” replied Ardmore, whose spirits had never been higher, “though the fellow was not without his pleasant humour. He insisted with great vigour that he is the governor of South Carolina.”
“I wonder”—and Jerry spoke wistfully—“I wonder where papa is!”
“Well, he’s not in the corn-crib; be sure of that.”
“Papa looks every inch the statesman,” replied Jerry proudly, “and in his frock-coat no one could ever mistake him for other than the patriot he is.”
CHAPTER XIX.
IN THE RED BUNGALOW.
“What do you think,” cried Mrs. Atchison, glowing before Jerry and Ardmore on their return; “we have a new guest!”
“In the coal cellar?” inquired her brother.
“No, in the blue room adjoining Miss Dangerfield’s! And what do you think! It is none other than the daughter of the governor of South Carolina.”
“Oh, Nellie!” gasped Ardmore.
“Why, what’s the matter?” demanded Mrs. Atchison. “I had gone in to Turner’s to look at that memorial church we’re building there, and I learned from the rector that Miss Osborne, with only a maid, was stopping at that wretched hole called the Majestic Hotel. I had met Miss Osborne in Washington last winter, and you may forget, Tommy, that on our mother’s side I am a Daughter of the Seminole War, a society of which Miss Osborne is the president-general.—I hope Miss Osborne’s presence here will not be offensive to you, Miss Dangerfield. She seemed reluctant to come, but I simply would not take no, and I am to send for her at four o’clock.”