She laughed, and held both gloves up. “No wonder! I had it all the time. Thank you ever so much.”
“How are we going to ride back?” asked Stoller.
Burnamy almost turned pale; Miss Triscoe smiled impenetrably. No one else spoke, and Mrs. March said, with placid authority, “Oh, I think the way we came, is best.”
“Did that absurd creature,” she apostrophized her husband as soon as she got him alone after their arrival at Pupp's, “think I was going to let him drive back with Agatha?”
“I wonder,” said March, “if that's what Burnamy calls her now?”
“I shall despise him if it isn't.”
XXXVII.
Burnamy took up his mail to Stoller after the supper which they had eaten in a silence natural with two men who have been off on a picnic together. He did not rise from his writing-desk when Burnamy came in, and the young man did not sit down after putting his letters before him. He said, with an effort of forcing himself to speak at once, “I have looked through the papers, and there is something that I think you ought to see.”
“What do you mean?” said Stoller.