And he doesn't talk the least bit queer or common."
There was a dead silence. "And pray where did YOU see him, and what do
you know about his hands?" asked Mrs. Randolph, in her most desiccated
voice. "Or has the major already presented you to him? I shouldn't be
surprised."
"No, but"--hesitated the young girl, with a certain mouse-like
audacity,--"when you sent me to look after Miss Mallory, I came up to
him just after he had spoken to her, and he stopped to ask me how we all
were, and if Miss Mallory was really frightened by the earthquake, and
he shook hands for good afternoon--that's all."
"And who taught you to converse with common strangers and shake hands
with them?" continued Mrs. Randolph, with narrowing lips.
"Nobody, mamma; but I thought if Miss Mallory, who is a young lady,
could speak to him, so could I, who am not out yet."
"We won't discuss this any further at present," said Mrs. Randolph,
stiffly, as the major smiled grimly at Rose. "The earthquake seems to
have shaken down in this house more than the chimneys.
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