I cannot say what others thought, but I happen to have learned since what flashed across Mary’s mind. The Don had proposed to Alice and Alice had rejected him, had declined his first proposal merely, for of course she could not have meant to reject him for good and all. What passed her comprehension was how Alice had had the hardihood to propose a walk which she must have known was to have that result. She was amazed to think how blind she had been all along. How could she have failed to remark what was patent to all, that the Don hung upon every word that fell from Alice’s lips?
I happen to know, too, what Charley thought: “She tackled him! What a girl! what a girl! Bless her little heart!”
“Well, Alice,” said my grandfather, “you know the rule.” Alice looked up. “Whenever any of my girls have had a trip on the Argo—”
“Oh,” said Alice, “we kiss you on our return.” And she suited action to word.
“I accept the amendment, but that is not what I meant. Give an account of yourself. What luck?”
Alice’s face grew serene under the old-time courtesy of my grandfather’s manner, and she was herself again.
“You will have to excuse me, Uncle Tom. A girl who has been properly brought up cannot fail to feel that there are occasions when her mother is her only proper confidant.”
Even the Don laughed at this, and the hard lines passed out of his face. He looked at Alice with an expression of admiring amusement, seeing how easily she had laughed away the awkward pause that their return had caused.
When Mary, poor tempest-tossed soul, saw that admiring glance, she stamped her foot, though inaudibly,—stamped it with vexation, and inwardly begged Alice’s pardon; for it was not the glance of a lover, rejected or other.
“There they come down the lawn,” suddenly cried my grandfather. “Charley, where is the glass? Thank you. They are getting into the boat,—Mrs. Poythress is in,—now for Lucy,—she is in,—and now Mr. P. there! The first flash of the oars! They are off! Charley,” added he, handing the glass to Mrs. Carter, “did you think to send word to the Herr to come, as the Poythresses were to spend the day with us? Ah, I remember, he could not come. Well, Lucy and Mr. Smith will have to entertain us to-day.”