"
"Me? What was it?" asked Miss Polly quickly.
"I don't know. I didn't let him finish. I forbade his even
mentioning your name."
"Indeed!" cried the girl, in quick dudgeon. "Don't you think you
are taking a great deal upon yourself, Fitz? What do you really
know about Mr. Perkins, anyway, that you judge him so
offhandedly?"
"Very little, but enough, I think. And I hardly think you know
more."
"Then you're wrong. I do."
"You KNOW this man?"
"Yes; I do."
"Does your father approve of--"
"Never mind my father! He has confidence enough in me to let me
judge of my own friends."
"Friends?" Carroll's handsome face clouded and reddened. "If I had
known that he was a friend of yours, Miss Polly, I never would
have spoken as I did. I'm most sincerely sorry," he added, with
grave courtesy.
The girl's color deepened under the brown.
"He isn't exactly a friend," she admitted. "I've just met and
talked with him a few times. But your judgment seemed so unfair,
on such a slight basis."
"I'm sorry I can't reverse my judgment," said the Southerner
stiffly, "But I know of only one standard for those matters.
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