I saw her in the
post-office only yesterday an'--"
"Did you?" cried Bob eagerly, then stopped short, flushed, and bit his
lip.
"Yes, she was there," Willie returned serenely, without appearing to
have noticed his guest's agitation. "Young Farwell from Cambridge--the
one that has all the money--was talkin' to her, an' she had that
Harvard professor who boards at the Brewsters' along too; Carlton his
name is, Jasper Carlton. He's a mighty good-lookin' chap." He stole a
glance at the face that glowered out of the window. "Had you chose to
stroll down to the store with me like I asked you to, you might 'a'
seen her yourself."
"Oh, I--I--didn't need to see her," stammered Bob.
"Mebbe not," was the tranquil answer. "An' she didn't need to see you,
neither, judgin' from the way she was talkin' an' laughin' with them
other fellers. Still a young man is never the worse for chattin' with
a nice girl. Now, son, if I was you, I wouldn't get stirred up over
this jewelry business. We'll get a rise out of Miss C. L. G. pretty
soon an' when she comes to the surface--"
"Who's that at the gate, Willie?" called Celestina from the kitchen.
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