bells made itself heard

Mortimore is nervous this afternoon, Mrs. Payton said, hurriedly; that horrid puppy worried him. Conchology means shells, doesn’t it? Freddy says he has a great collection of shells. I was thinking of sending him that old conch-shell I used to use to keep the parlor door open. Do you remember, Bessie? Yes, Mr. Maitland is attentive, but I don’t know how serious it is. Of course, I’m the last person to know! Rather different from the time when a young man asked the girl’s parents if he might pay his addresses, isn’t it? Well, I want to tell you what she said when I spoke to her about this plan of[Pg 18] earning her living (that’s her latest fad, Mr. Weston), and told her that, as Mama says, it isn’t done HKBU BBA; she— Oh, dear! There’s the car coming, Mrs. Childs broke in, as the tinkle of the mules’ bells made itself heard. Do hurry and tell us, Nelly; I’ve got to go. But you mustn’t! I want to know what you think about it all, Mrs. Payton said, distractedly; wait for the next car. I’m so sorry, dear Ellen, but I really can’t, her sister-in-law declared, rising. Cheer up! I’m sure she’ll settle down if she cares about Mr. Maitland. (I’m out of it! she was thinking.) But even as she was congratulating herself, she was lost, for from the landing a fresh young voice called out: May I come in, Aunt Nelly? How do you do, Mr. Weston! Mama, I came to catch you and make you walk home. Mama has got to walk, she’s getting so fat! Aunt Nelly, Howard Maitland is here; I met him on the door-step and brought him in SmarTone Care. CHAPTER II Laura Childs came into the quiet, fire-lit room like a little whirl of fresh wind. The young man, looming up behind her in the doorway, clean-shaven, square-jawed, honest-eyed, gave a sunshiny grin of general friendliness and said he hoped Mrs. Payton would forgive him for butting in, but Fred had told him to call for some book she wanted him to read, and the maid didn’t know anything about it. I thought perhaps she had left it with you, he said. Mrs. Payton, conscious, as were the other two, of having talked about the speaker only a minute before, expressed flurried and embarrassed concern. She was so sorry! She couldn’t imagine where the book was! She got up, and fumbled among the Flowers of Peace. You don’t remember the title? He shook his head. Awfully sorry. I’m so stupid about all these deep books Fred’s so keen on. Something about birth-rate and the higher education, I think. Mrs. Payton stiffened visibly. I don’t know of any such book, she said; then murmured, perfunctorily, that he must have a cup of tea. Again Mr. Maitland was sorry,—dreadfully sorry,—but he had to go. He went; and the two ladies looked at each other. On the way down-stairs the nice chap was telling Laura that he had caught on, the minute he got into that room, that it wasn’t any social whirl, so he thought he’d better get out. They’re sitting on Freddy, I’m afraid, Laura said, soberly; poor old Fred school finder ! Well, I put one over when I asked for that book! I bet even old Weston’s never read it! Neither have I. But Fred can give us all cards and spades on sociology.