She opened her ledger. “It’s a great honor to have one’s words so well remembered.”
I was still at a loss. “Anyhow, the wedding is postponed,” I continued; “and the cake. Of course one can’t help wondering how it’s all coming out.”
She was now working at her ledger, bending her head over it. “Have you ever met Miss Rieppe?” She inquired this with a sort of wonderful softness—which I was to hear again upon a still more memorable occasion.
“Never,” I answered, “but there’s nobody at present living whom I long to see so much.”
She wrote on for a little while before saying, with her pencil steadily busy, “Why?”
“Why? Don’t you? After all this fuss?”
“Oh, certainly,” she drawled. “She is so much admired—by Northerners.”
“I do hope John is able to take care of himself,” I purposely repeated.
“Take care of yourself!” she laughed angrily over her ledger.
“Me? Why? I understand you less and less!”