Not until the mid-heat of the afternoon, however, did
she observe, first with puzzlement, then with a start of
recognition, the patiently rounded brown back of the forward-
leaning figure in the corner. Greatly wroth was Miss Polly
Brewster. For some hours--two, at least--the man to keep tryst and
wager with whom she had tramped up miles of mountain road had been
in town and hadn't called upon her! Truly was he an Unspeakable
Perk!
Wasn't there possibly a mistake somewhere, though? A second peep
at the far-away back interpreted into the curve a suggestion of
resigned waiting. Maybe he had called, after all. Thought being
usually with Miss Brewster the mother of the twins, Determination
and Action, she slipped downstairs and inquired of the three
guardians of the door, in such Spanish as she could muster,
whether a Mr. Perkins, wearing large glasses--this in the
universal sign manual--had been to see her that day.
"Si, Senorita"--he had.
Why, then, hadn't his name been brought to her?
Extended hands and up-shrugged shoulders that might mean either
apology or incomprehension.
Straightway Miss Brewster pinned a hat upon her brown head at an
altogether casual and heart-distracting angle and sallied down
into the tesselated bowl of the park.
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