Gets to the office at eight o'clock, rain or shine, and loves
nothing better than to sit and grub there all day long. Steady as a rock.
Splendid future. Holds his own nose to the grindstone like a real little
lamb. I hope he asked Rosamund for supper."
The young man presently reappeared, making his way behind the long tier
of upper boxes.
"Well, my boy, were you forgetting all about your mother and her elderly
friends? I'd never figured on your meeting the younger daughter first. My
son William, Miss Marshall. William, here's an awfully good girl; her
father thinks as much of her as I do of you."
The young man bowed, but blushed and halted before this singular
presentation.
"Well, I don't know," said Jane, filling up the breach in the first
fashion that presented itself. "If pa had the same gift of language that
you have, I should feel surer." She picked out her puffs, and then leaned
back negligently with her hands crossed. She was too thoroughly grounded
by this time to be discomposed by any youth seven or eight years her
junior.
The youth shifted his feet.
"I saw you with my sister a minute ago," continued Jane. She knew,
without looking round to see, that Mrs. Bates was smiling in the anxious,
would-be-helpful way of parents who have put their offspring at a
disadvantage.
"Yes--oh yes," the young man responded, with precipitation. "We had a
very nice polka, indeed."
"Well," said Jane to herself, "I can talk about polkas and lots of other
things.
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