Her aunt was sitting by the bureau, reading a novel from the
circulating library. Though she had been sitting right here since about
four o'clock, only getting up once to light the gas, she had a casual
air like one who is only killing a moment's time between important
engagements. She looked up at the girl's entrance, and an affectionate
smile lit her well-lined face.
"My dear Sharlee! I'm so glad to see you."
They kissed tenderly.
"Oh, Aunt Jennie, tell me! Is he--this man you telephoned me about--is
he a little, small, dried young man, with spectacles and a brown derby,
and needing a hair-cut, and the gravest, drollest manner in the world?
Tell me--is he?"
"My dear, you have described him to the life. Where did you see him?"
Sharlee collapsed upon the bed. Presently she revived and outlined the
situation to Aunt Jennie.
Mrs. Paynter listened with some interest. If humor is a defect, as they
tell us nowadays, she was almost a faultless woman. And in her day she
had been a beauty and a toast. You hear it said generously of a
thousand, but it happened to be true in her case.
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