Elmer, summoning youth's supreme
weapon of an affected boredom, yawned, stifled his little cough and
went with Virginia to meet Florence.
Florence giggled over the introduction, then grew abruptly as grave as
a matron of seventy and tactlessly observed that Mr. Page had a very
bad cold; how could one have a cold in weather like this? Whereupon
Mr. Page glared at her belligerently, noted her little row of curls,
revised his first opinion of her, set her down not only as a cousin,
but as a crazy kid besides, and removed half a dozen steps to a chair.
"I don't think much of your friends," remarked Florrie, sensing sudden
opposition and flying half-way to meet it.
Elmer Page produced a very new, unsullied pipe from his pocket and
filled it with an air, while Virginia looked on curiously. Having done
so and having drawn up one trouser's leg to save the crease, crossed
the leg and at last put the pipe stem into his mouth, he regarded
Florrie from the cool and serene height of his superior age.
"If you refer to Mr. Rickard," he said aloofly, "I may say that he is
not a friend . . . yet. I just met him this afternoon. But, although
he hasn't had the social advantages, perhaps, still he is a man of
parts."
Florrie sniffed and tossed her head. Virginia bit her lips and watched
them.
Pages:
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125