"I--I don't understand, please----"
"Miss Hinsdale has been talking--raving--to me about you! You may not know
it--though I suppose you do--but you made a conquest last night. It seems
a little hard on the poor young man who is at work for you in Plattville,
doing his best for you, plodding on through the hot days, and doing all he
knows how, while you sit listening to music in the evenings with Clara
Hinsdale, and make a mock of his work and his trying to please you----"
"But I didn't mention him to Miss Hinsdale. In fact, I didn't mention
anything to Miss Hinsdale. What have I done? The young man is making his
living by his work--and my living, too, for that matter. It only seems to
me that his tariff editorials are rather humorous."
She laughed suddenly--ringingly. "Of course they are! How should I know?
Immensely humorous! And the good creature knows nothing beyond smuggling
and the custom-house and chalk marks? Why, even I--ha, ha, ha!--even
I--should have known better than that. What a little fool your
enterprising idiot must be!--with his work-baskets and currant jelly and
his trying to make the 'Herald' a daily!--It will be a ludicrous failure,
of course. No doubt he thought he was being quite wise, and was pleased
over his tariff editorials--his funny, funny editorials--his best--to
please you! Ha, ha, ha! How immensely funny!"
"Do you know him?" he asked abruptly.
"I have not the honor of the gentleman's acquaintance. Ah," she rejoined
bitterly, "I see what you mean; it is the old accusation, is it? I am a
woman, and I 'sound the personal note.' I could not resent a cruelty for
the sake of a man I do not know. But let it go. My resentment is personal,
after all, since it is against a man I do know--you!"
He leaned toward her because he could not help it. "I'd rather have
resentment from you than nothing."
"Then I will give you nothing," she answered quickly.
"You flout me!" he cried. "That is better than resentment."
"I hate you most, I think," she said with a tremulousness he did not
perceive, "when you say you do not care to go back to Plattville."
"Did I say it?"
"It is in every word, and it is true; you don't care to go back there."
"Yes, it is true; I don't."
"You want to leave the place where you do good; to leave those people who
love you, who were ready to die to avenge your hurt!" she exclaimed
vehemently. "Oh, I say that is shameful!"