She prides herself on being able to distinguish blue blood
at a glance. Silly notion she's got, but--"
"Please don't go on, Mr. Wrandall," cried Hetty in distress.
"I'm not saying she isn't friendly to Sara nowadays," he explained.
"She's changed a good deal in the last few months. I think she's
broadening out a bit. Since that visit to Nice, she's been quite
different. As a matter of fact, she expects to see a good bit of
Sara and you this summer. It's like a spring thaw, by Jove, it is."
"When does she come to the country?" asked Hetty, bent on breaking
his train of confidence.
"In three or four weeks. But, as I was saying, the mater has taken
a great fancy to you. She--"
"It's very nice of her."
"She prides herself, as I said before, but she always makes sure
by asking questions."
"Questions?"
"Yes. Although she could see through you as if you were plate glass,
she made it a point to ask Sara all the questions she could think
of. Over in Nice, you know. Of course Sara told her everything,
and now she's quite sure she can't be mistaken in people. Really,
Miss Castleton, she's very amusing sometimes, mother is."
Hetty was looking straight ahead, her face set.
"What did Sara tell her about me?"
"Oh, all that was necessary to prove to mother that she was right.
As if it really made any difference, you know.
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