He fell in behind the leading soldier, holding his umbrella high and marching stiffly, like a conqueror, through the sucking mud.
CHAPTER X—GRANITE
1
BETTY did not get down for breakfast in the morning. And Mrs. Boatwright sent nothing up.
It was close upon noon when Betty, sketching portfolio under arm, came slowly down the stairs. Mrs. Boatwright, at her desk in the front room, glanced up, called:
“Oh, Betty—just a moment!”
The girl stood in the doorway. She looked so slim and small and, even, childlike, that the older woman, to whom responsibility for all things and persons about her was a habit, knit her heavy brows slightly. What on earth were you to do with the child? What had Griggsby Doane been thinking of in bringing her out here? Anything, almost, would have been better. And just now, of all times!
“Would you mind coming in? There's a question or two I'd like to ask you.”