Persis gave Forbes another sidelong glance; this time with a meek wonderment in place of irony. Once more the man had shown a kind of awe of her. Unwittingly he was attacking her on her most defenseless wall; for a woman who is always hearing praise of her beauty or her vivacity, so hungers and thirsts after some recognition of her intellectual existence that she is usually quite helpless before a tribute to it.
Persis knew that there was no importance in her guess at what Alice was about to ask; but there was importance in the high rating Forbes gave it. The comfort she found in this homage was put to flight by Alice's nails nipping her arm.
"Before mother comes we must rehearse what we're to say. She thinks I went to one of those lectures on Current Topics. They're so very improving that Mother can't bear to go herself. She sends me and then forgets to ask me what it was all about. So I sneaked it to-day and met Stowe."
Persis could not resist a motherly question: "Is this an ideal trysting-place, do you think?"
"Where's the harm? We couldn't go to the Park very well. Everybody's always going by and looking on."
"Why don't you receive Mr. Webb at home?"
"Oh, why don't I, indeed! Mother won't allow him within a mile of the place. Didn't you know that?"
Persis shook her head and turned to Forbes: "Doesn't it sound old-fashioned, a young girl afraid of her parents?"
"Quite medieval," Forbes agreed.
"Oh, but you are quaint, Alice," Persis laughed. "I thought it only happened in books and plays, but here's Alice actually obeying a cruel order like that. I'd like to see my father try to boss me. I'd really enjoy it as a change."