"Certainly," she said, looking at him in slow surprise. She relinquished her umbrella, and they walked off together.
"What on earth is the matter with that man?" asked Jennie, her eyes on the receding couple; then she glanced at Westerfelt, and added, with a little giggle, "What's the matter with you?"
Westerfelt seemed not to hear.
"Mr. Bates looks like he's lost his best friend," went on the irrepressible girl. "Look how he wabbles; he walks like he was following a plough in new ground. I wouldn't want him to swing my parasol about that way. What do you reckon ails him?"
"I don't know," said Westerfelt. Her words irritated him like the persistent buzzing of a mosquito.
"I wonder if that fellow is goose enough to go an' fall in love with Harriet."
"What if he should?" Westerfelt was interested.
"She hain't in love with him."
"How do you know?"
"How do I know? Because she is silly enough to be gone on a man that don't care a snap for her."