"Yes." Rosemary's voice was very low and had in it all the weariness of the world.
"What did she say?" inquired Grandmother, with the air of the attorney for the defence. The spectacles were resting upon the wart now, and she peered over them disconcertingly.
What Does She Look Like?
"I asked you what she said," Grandmother repeated distinctly, after a pause.
"She said: 'How do you do, Miss Starr?'"
"How'd she know who you were?"
"There, there, Mother," put in Aunt Matilda. "I reckon everybody in these parts knows the Starr family."
"Of course," returned the old lady, somewhat mollified. "What else did she say?"
"Nothing much," stammered Rosemary. "That is, I can't remember. She said it was a nice day, or something of that sort, and then she went back home. She didn't stay but a minute." So much was true, even though that minute had agonised Rosemary beyond words.
"What does she look like?" Grandmother continued, with deep interest.