“I was sure you would appreciate—would understand;” and Mr. Brandreth pressed her hand gratefully in leave-taking.
She heard him talking with some one at the gate, whose sharp, “All right, my son!" identified Putney.
She ran to the door to welcome him.
“Oh, you're both here!” she rejoiced, at sight of Mrs. Putney too.
“I can send Ellen home,” suggested Putney.
“Oh no, indeed!” said Annie, with single-mindedness at which she laughed with Mrs. Putney. “Only it seemed too good to have you both,” she explained, kissing Mrs. Putney. “I'm so glad to see you!”
“Well, what's the reason?” Putney dropped into a chair and began to rock nervously. “Don't be ashamed: we're all selfish. Has Brandreth been putting up any more jobs on you?”
“No, no! Only giving me a hint of his troubles and sorrows with those wretched Social Union theatricals. Poor young fellow! I'm sorry for him. He is really very sweet and unselfish. I like him.”
“Yes, Brandreth is one of the most lady-like fellows I ever saw,” said Putney. “That Juliet business has pretty near been the death of him. I told him to offer Miss Chapley some other part—Rosaline, the part of the young lady who was dropped; but he couldn't seem to see it. Well, and how come on the good works, Annie?”
“The good works! Ralph, tell me: do people think me a charitable person? Do they suppose I've done or can do any good whatever?” She looked from Putney to his wife, and back again with comic entreaty.