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Joe smiled faintly, grateful for the sympathy and for the gentle words of her friend. "No, Sybil dear. It is nothing there is nothing you can do. Thanks, dearest I shall be very well in a little while. It is nothing, really. Is the carriage there?" A few minutes later, Joe and Ronald were again at Miss Schenectady's house.
"I guess any gosh-durned rube in these parts 'll know without being told what neck o' the woods I hail from. Schenectady's my middle name! I'm " "Oh, my God!" groaned Will. "We don't talk that way in the States. The missionaries " "I'm the guy who put the 'oh! in Ohio!" continued Fred.
"Why can't you get in, Mr. Vancouver?" inquired Miss Schenectady, when she and Joe were at last packed into the deep booby. It was simply a form of invitation. There was no reason why Mr. Vancouver should not get in, and with a word of thanks he did so. Ten minutes later the three were seated round the fire in Miss Schenectady's drawing-room.
Dear Aunt Zoruiah was so horrid about such things that it was impossible to talk to her! "Do you know how to skate?" Sybil Brandon asked of Joe as the two young girls, clad in heavy furs, walked down the sunny side of Beacon Street two days later. They were going from Miss Schenectady's to a "lunch party" one of those social institutions of Boston which had most surprised Joe on her first arrival.
John Harrington looked at Miss Thorn, and looked at her with pleasure, for he saw that she was fair but in spite of her newly discovered beauty he resisted Miss Schenectady's invitation to sit down again, and departed. Any other man would have stayed, under the circumstances. "Well, Josephine," said Miss Schenectady, when he was gone, "now you have seen John Harrington."
Whatever the world wrote, sang, painted, thought, or did, the conviction remained unshaken in Miss Schenectady's mind that Beacon Street was better than those things, and that of all speeches and languages known and spoken in the world's history, the familiar dialect of Boston was the one best calculated by Providence and nature to express and formulate all manner of wisdom.
Consequently Joe accepted the attentions of Pocock Vancouver with a certain amount of satisfaction, and she had not been displeased that he should come to Miss Schenectady's house for tea. The evening passed quickly, and Vancouver took his leave. As he opened the front door to let himself out he nearly fell over a small telegraph messenger. "Thorn here?" inquired the boy, laconically.
But while he talked with his hosts his own thoughts strayed again and again to Joe, and he wondered what kind of woman she really was. He intended to visit her the next day. The next day came, however, and yet John did not turn his steps up the hill towards Miss Schenectady's house.
Of course he would expect to see her every day, and to spend all his leisure hours at Miss Schenectady's house. Whatever she happened to be doing, it would always be necessary to take Ronald into consideration, and the prospect did not please her at all. Ronald was a dear good fellow, of course, and she meant to marry him in the end at least, she probably would.
Perhaps, if he had met Josephine by daylight, instead of in the dim shadows of Miss Schenectady's front drawing-room, he might have been struck by her appearance and interested by her manner. As it was, he was merely endeavoring to get through his visit with a proper amount of civility, in the hope that he might get away in time to see Mrs. Sam Wyndham before dinner.
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