“Me? What was it?” asked Miss Polly quickly.
“I don’t know. I didn’t let him finish. I forbade his even mentioning your name.”
“Indeed!” cried the girl, in quick dudgeon. “Don’t you think you are taking a great deal upon yourself, Fitz? What do you really know about Mr. Perkins, anyway, that you judge him so offhandedly?”
“Very little, but enough, I think. And I hardly think you know more.”
“Then you’re wrong. I do.”
“You know this man?”
“Yes; I do.”
“Does your father approve of—”
“Never mind my father! He has confidence enough in me to let me judge of my own friends.”
“Friends?” Carroll’s handsome face clouded and reddened. “If I had known that he was a friend of yours, Miss Polly, I never would have spoken as I did. I’m most sincerely sorry,” he added, with grave courtesy.