"Well, I guess _I_ wouldn't, after all!"
I had taken her shawl from her to carry it, but at the top of the steps
that led down to the cabins I had to give it back. "Your mother would be
glad if she could know," I observed as we parted.
But she was proof against my graces. "If she could know what?"
"How well you're getting on." I refused to be discouraged. "And that
good Mrs. Allen."
"Oh mother, mother! She made me come, she pushed me off." And almost as
if not to say more she went quickly below.
I paid Mrs. Nettlepoint a morning visit after luncheon and another in the
evening, before she "turned in." That same day, in the evening, she said
to me suddenly: "Do you know what I've done? I've asked Jasper."
"Asked him what?"
"Why, if _she_ asked him, you understand."
I wondered. "_Do_ I understand?"
"If you don't it's because you 'regular' won't, as she says. If that
girl really asked him--on the balcony--to sail with us."
"My dear lady, do you suppose that if she did he'd tell you?"
She had to recognise my acuteness. "That's just what he says. But he
says she didn't."
"And do you consider the statement valuable?" I asked, laughing out. "You
had better ask your young friend herself."
Mrs. Nettlepoint stared. "I couldn't do that.
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