But Ida's manner was so quiet and guarded it would have required
keener eyes than even Jennie Burton's to detect the hidden fire.
The meal promised to pass, with some constraint, it is true, but
without any embarrassing incident, when Mrs. Mayhew was the means
of placing poor Ida in a very painful dilemma. Under a general
impulse to conciliate her daughter and make amends, and with her
usual want of tact, she suddenly and sententiously said:
"Well, I think Ida's very brave to be able to drive for herself."
There was a moment of embarrassed silence after this unexpected
remark, and then Miss Burton made matters far worse by saying, with
the kindest intentions:
"After Miss Mayhew's adventure in the stage no one can doubt her
courage, and I'm sure I admire a brave woman much more than a brave
man. Men are brave as a matter of course." Then she saw from the
sudden scarlet that flamed up into Ida's cheeks, and the manner
of the artist, who suddenly became wholly absorbed in his supper,
that she had made an unfortunate allusion. There was nothing to
do but promptly change the subject, so she turned and asked:
"What is the greatest number of miles you have ever driven in a
day, Mr.
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