I couldn't have meant it; I'm sure I 'umbly beg
pardon."
Strange to say, by this imperfect expression of regret, Miss Sparkes
allowed herself to be mollified. Presenting a three-quarter
countenance with a forbearing smile, she answered in the formula of
her class:
"Oh, I'm sure it's granted."
"There now, we're all friends again," said Carrie Waghorn. "Miss
Sparkes is living with me for the present, Mr. Gammon. There'll be
changes before long"--she looked about her with prudish
embarrassment--"but, of course, we shall be seeing you again. Do you
know the address, Mr. Gammon?"
She mentioned the number of the house, and carefully repeated it,
whilst Polly turned away as if the conversation did not interest
her. Thereupon Mr. Gammon bade them good night, and went his way,
marvelling that Polly Sparkes had all at once become so placable.
Was it a stratagem to throw him off his guard and bring him into the
clutches of some avenger one of these nights? One never knew what
went on in the minds of such young women as Polly.
Next morning he had another surprise, a letter from his friend
Greenacre, inviting him, with many phrases of studious politeness,
to dine that day at a great hotel, the hour eight o'clock, and
begging him to reply by telegram addressed to the same hotel.
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