I did like him very much, you know, or I
shouldn't have taken all that trouble. Why, his own mother
thanked me!"
"I have no more to say," said I.
"But she wrote me a horrid letter afterward."
"You're so very elliptical."
"So very what, Mr. Carter?"
"You leave so much out, I mean. After what?"
"Why, after I sent him away. Didn't I tell you? Oh, we had the
most awful scene. He raved, Mr. Carter. He called me the most
horrid names, and--"
"Tore his hair?"
"It wasn't long enough to get hold of," she tittered. "But don't
laugh. It was really dreadful. And so unjust! And then, next
day, when I thought it was comfortably over, you know, he came
back, and--and apologized, and called himself the most awful
names, and--well, that was really worse."
"What did the fellow complain of?" I asked in wondering tones.
"Oh, he said I'd destroyed his faith in women, you know, and that
I'd led him on, and that I was--well, he was very rude indeed.
And he went on writing me letters like that for a whole year? It
made me quite uncomfortable."
"But he didn't go back to short trousers and a fiddle, did he?" I
asked anxiously.
"Oh, no. But he forgot all he owed me, and he told me that his
heart was dead, and that he should never love any one again.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25