It was a delightful old place, shut
off from the street by a yard filled with flowering plants and
shrubs, and, though flanked in true Spanish fashion by stores and
shops, it was roomy and comfortable.
Edith kept him waiting a moment before she descended, dressed for
her afternoon ride.
"You see, I haven't given up my horse in spite of your neglect,"
she said, as she gave him her hand, "You got my note?"
"Yes, and I came straight from the office."
"I suppose you know what it is about and are wondering how I heard
the news."
"What news?"
"Your 'engagement.'" She laughed with an amusement that did not
ring quite true.
"You're the second one to speak about that. I'm not engaged."
"Of course not. Don't think for a moment I believed it. I was
calling on some Spanish people this afternoon and heard the
report--I admit it was a shock. When I learned the details I knew
at once you ought to be told before it developed into something
embarrassing. Come into the other room; there is a breeze from the
water." She led him into the parlor, from which the open windows,
shielded now by drawn shutters, gave egress to the rear porch with
its chairs and hammock.
"Dear, dear! You foolish boy, you're always in trouble, aren't
you? You really don't deserve to be helped.
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