And as a personal
favor to me, don't be fat."
"No fear of that," said the girl with a melancholy attempt at a smile.
"But you must go and join the others. Do, please. I am now in disgrace,
and you may compromise your social standing in Morovenia if you remain
here and talk to me."
"I dare say I should go. I have a husband who requires as much attention
and scolding as a four-year-old. Sometimes I almost favor the oriental
system of the husband's directing the wife. Good-by."
"Good-by."
Mrs. Plumston gave her a kiss and a friendly little pat on the arm, and
walked away toward the stables with a swinging, heel-and-toe, masculine
stride.
Kalora had the whole garden to herself. She sat squared up in the wicker
chair with her fists clenched, looking straight ahead, trying in vain to
think of some plan for avenging herself upon the whole race of
bachelors. As she sat thus some one spoke to her.
"How do you do?" came a voice.
She was startled and looked about, but saw no one.
"Up here!" came the voice again.
She looked up and saw a young man on the top of the wall, his legs
hanging over. Evidently he had climbed up from the outside, and yet
Kalora had never suspected that the wall could be climbed.
Pages:
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37