I didn't remember your name," said
Grace Mavis.
"That's very unkind of you, when I recall vividly that you had a pink
dress."
"Oh I remember that dress--your strawberry tarletan: you looked lovely in
it!" Mrs. Mavis broke out. "You must get another just like it--on the
other side."
"Yes, your daughter looked charming in it," said Jasper Nettlepoint. Then
he added to the girl: "Yet you mentioned my name to your mother."
"It came back to me--seeing you here. I had no idea this was your home."
"Well, I confess it isn't, much. Oh there are some drinks!"--he
approached the tray and its glasses.
"Indeed there are and quite delicious"--Mrs. Mavis largely wiped her
mouth.
"Won't you have another then?--a pink one, like your daughter's gown."
"With pleasure, sir. Oh do see them over," Mrs. Mavis continued,
accepting from the young man's hand a third tumbler.
"My mother and that gentleman? Surely they can take care of themselves,"
he freely pleaded.
"Then my daughter--she has a claim as an old friend."
But his mother had by this time interposed. "Jasper, what does your
telegram say?"
He paid her no heed: he stood there with his glass in his hand, looking
from Mrs. Mavis to Miss Grace.
"Ah leave her to me, madam; I'm quite competent," I said to Mrs.
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