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He came from Lynn, Massachusetts, and they have relatives there YET some of the best people in Lynn!" "No!" exclaimed Bibbs, incredulously. "And there are other old families like the Vertreeses," she went on, not heeding him; "the Lamhorns and the Kittersbys and the J. Palmerston Smiths " "Strange names to me," he interrupted. "Poor things! None of them have my acquaintance."
The separating hedge ran almost beneath Bibbs's window for this wing of the New House extended here almost to the edge of the lot and, directly opposite the window, the Vertreeses' lawn had been graded so as to make a little knoll upon which stood a small rustic "summer-house."
"Me?" she cried, dropping her feet and swinging around to face him. "Nothing. It's them! Those Vertreeses!" She wiped her eyes. "They've had to sell their piano!" "Well, what of it?" "That Mrs. Kittersby told me all about 'em a week ago," said Sibyl.
He opened it, and she said: "Bibbs, you were coming out of the Vertreeses' house when we met you. How did you happen to be there?" "I had only been to the door," he said. "Good night, Sibyl." "Wait," she insisted. "We saw you coming out." "I wasn't," he explained, moving to depart. "I'd just brought Miss Vertrees home." "What?" she cried.
Having pulled enough twigs to emphasize her unconsciousness and at the same time her disapproval of everything in the nature of a Sheridan or belonging to a Sheridan, she descended the knoll with maintained composure, and sauntered toward a side-door of the country mansion of the Vertreeses. An elderly lady, bonneted and cloaked, opened the door and came to meet her. "Are you ready, Mary?
It was almost on a level with Bibbs's window and not thirty feet away; and it was easy for him to imagine the present dynasty of Vertreeses in grievous outcry when they had found this retreat ruined by the juxtaposition of the parvenu intruder. Probably the "summer-house" was pleasant and pretty in summer.
Surely, he reflected, some traces of emotion must linger upon Sibyl's face or in her manner; she could not have ironed it all quite out in the three or four minutes it took her to reach the Vertreeses' door. And in this he was not mistaken, for Mary Vertrees was at that moment wondering what internal excitement Mrs. Roscoe Sheridan was striving to master.
And she seems to think it is scandal because I wanted to buy that old mahogany sideboard that the Vertreeses had to sell when they inherited old Mrs. Anderson and her furniture from his mother," he groaned, as he sat on my side porch with his head in his hands.
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