“Yes,” replied Mr. Sutton, “a country girl from a little village not far from Clovelly. A good girl, I believe, in spite of the atmosphere in which she has been raised.”
“It's really wonderful, Mr. Sutton, how you seem to know every one in your district, including the women and children,” said the lady; “but I suppose you wouldn't be where you are if you didn't.”
The Honorable Heth cleared his throat.
“Wetherell,” Mr. Duncan was saying, staring at Cynthia through his spectacles, “where have I heard that name?”
He must suddenly have remembered, and recalled also that he and his ally Worthington had been on opposite sides in the Woodchuck Session, for he sat down abruptly beside the door, and remained there for a while. For Mr. Duncan had never believed Mr. Merrill's explanation concerning poor William Wetherell' s conduct.
“Pretty, ain't she?” said Mr. Sutton to Mr. Worthington. “Guess she's more dangerous than Jethro, now that we've clipped his wings a little.” The congressman had heard of Bob's infatuation.
Isaac D. Worthington, however, was in a good humor this evening and was moved by a certain curiosity to inspect the girl. Though what he had seen and heard of his son's conduct with her had annoyed him, he did not regard it seriously.
“Aren't you going to speak to your constituent, Mr. Sutton?” said Mrs. Duncan, who was bored because her friends had not arrived; “a congressman ought to keep on the right side of the pretty girls, you know.”
It hadn't occurred to the Honorable Heth to speak to his constituent. The ways of Mrs. Duncan sometimes puzzled him, and he could not see why that lady and her daughter seemed to take more than a passing interest in the girl. But if they could afford to notice her, certainly he could; so he went forward graciously and held out his hand to Cynthia; interrupting Miss Duncan in the middle of a discourse upon her diary.
“How do you do, Cynthia?” said Mr. Sutton. Had he been in Coniston, he would have said, “How be you?”