“I’m afraid you are,” Miss Pamela assented, gloomily. “I’m an old woman, and there ain’t much left to me, but I don’t mean to let the authority that I’ve always had in my family be taken away by any outsider. If you’d come to me first, Miss Jenkins, things might have been arranged different; but that’s over now, and I was always one to let bygones be bygones.”
Annie had moved to the hall, while her hostess fumbled at the door. It opened and let in a whiff of cool air and sounds of crickets on the grass.
“Autumn is here,” remarked Miss Roscoe, impersonally, addressing the world at large. Then she called to the girl between the box rows. Was there a touch of amusement in the mortuary voice?
“I presume you’ll hear from the folks to-morrow that they’ve changed their minds. Do drop in again some time. I’ve enjoyed your visit, and don’t forget to tell Miss Bangs to be careful of her headache!”
At home they were all in the dining room. Annie stood in the doorway, taking the pins out of her straw hat.
“Well?” called uncle William from the head of the table.
“Far from it,” replied the girl. Her cheeks burned, as she shook her head, but there was a glint of laughter in her eyes. She smoothed out her veil, pinned it to the hat and tossed them both in the hall, as she sank into her chair.
“I’ll have a lot to tell you after supper, but here are a few facts to occupy you till then:
“First, there isn’t going to be any fair!