“Do you mean that?”
“Of course. I’m angry. Didn’t I tell you that? I don’t permit people to make fun of me. Besides, you must come and see me next. You owe me two calls. Will you?”
“I—I—don’t know.”
“Afraid?”
“Rather.”
“Then you must surely come and conquer this cowardice. Will you come to-morrow?”
“No; I don’t think so.”
Miss Brewster opened wide her eyes upon him. She was little accustomed to have her invitations, which she issued rather in the manner of royal commands, thus casually received. Had the offender been any other of her acquaintance, she would have dropped the matter and the man then and there. But this was a different species. Graceful and tactful he might not be, but he was honest.
“Why?” she said.
“I’ve got something more important to do.”