. ."
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Porter."
Still she did not go. I realized her predicament, and was childish
enough to enjoy it, for Blakely's mother could not bear to accept a
favor from a social inferior. Had I been a child, she would have
patted me on the head and presented me with a sugar plum. As matters
stood she was quite at sea; she wished to do something gracious--she
didn't know how.
To make her position more impossible, who should come stalking into
the room but Dad,--dear, unsuspecting Dad. When he saw Mrs. Porter
he immediately jumped at a whole row of conclusions.
"Well, well well!" he said. "This is a sight that does me good. I'm
very glad indeed to see you, Mrs. Porter. Your son has had an idea
that you were opposed to meeting Elizabeth; but I knew he couldn't
be right. And here you are; calling on her? Well, well, well!
Elizabeth, haven't you any tea to offer Blakely's mother!"
"Mrs. Porter was just leaving" I managed to say. "She has been here
some time."
Dad beamed on us both.
"I told Blakely, Elizabeth couldn't marry him until you consented,"
he blundered on, "but now I suppose it is all arranged. These
children of ours are wonderfully impatient.
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