She put down her book on the sofa and got up, not without a little tremor at this unexpected encounter.
"Yes, I'm Cynthia Wetherell," she replied.
To add to her embarrassment, Miss Duncan seized both her hands impulsively and gazed into her face.
"You're really very beautiful," she said. "Do you know it?"
Cynthia's only answer to this was a blush. She wondered if all city girls were like Miss Duncan.
"I was determined to come up and speak to you the first chance I had,"
Janet continued. "I've been making up stories about you."
"Stories!" exclaimed Cynthia, drawing away her hands.
"Romances," said Miss Duncan—"real romances. Sometimes I think I'm going to be a novelist, because I'm always weaving stories about people that I see people who interest me, I mean. And you look as if you might be the heroine of a wonderful romance."
Cynthia's breath was now quite taken away.
"Oh," she said, "I—had never thought that I looked like that."