"I'm terribly sorry Mr. Saunders had to go away so soon." She strove
for sympathetic tone, but felt inexpert and self-conscious.
"Terribly sorry. I can't--"
And then, suddenly, Aunt Isabel laughed--laughed!--and said a
surprising thing.
"What! You, too, Missy? Oh, that's too funny!"
Missy stared--reproach, astonishment, bewilderment, contending in
her expression.
Aunt Isabel continued that delighted gurgle.
"Mr. Saunders is a notorious heart-breaker--but I didn't realize he
was capturing yours so speedily!"
Striving to keep her dignity, Missy perhaps made her tone more
severe than she intended.
"Well," she accused, "didn't he capture yours, Aunt Isabel?"
Then Aunt Isabel, still laughing a little, but with a serious shade
creeping into her eyes, reached out for one of Missy's hands and
smoothed it gently between her own.
"No, dear; I'm afraid your Uncle Charlie has that too securely
tucked away."
Something in Aunt Isabel's voice, her manner, her eyes, even more
than her words, convinced Missy that she was speaking the real
truth. It was all a kind of wild jumbled day-dream she'd been
having.
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