Mr.
Shipley proposed to me the day we went to San Mateo."
Her father's eyes lit with an eager sparkle. "Well," he said quickly.
"I reminded him that I had known him only a few weeks, and that I wanted
time to consider."
"Consider! Why, Clemmy, he's one of the oldest Boston families, rich
from his father and grandfather--rich when I was a shopkeeper and your
mother"--
"I thought you liked Grant?" she said quietly.
"Yes, but if YOU have no choice nor feeling in the matter, why Shipley
is far the better man. And if any of the scandal should come to his
ears"--
"So much the better that the hesitation should come from me. But if you
think it better, I can sit down here and write to him at once declining
the offer." She moved towards the desk.
"No! No! I did not mean that," said Harcourt quickly. "I only thought
that if he did hear anything it might be said that he had backed out."
"His sister knows of his offer, and though she don't like it nor me, she
will not deny the fact. By the way, you remember when she was lost that
day on the road to San Mateo?"
"Yes."
"Well, she was with your son, John Milton, all the time, and they
lunched together at Crystal Spring. It came out quite accidentally
through the hotel-keeper."
Harcourt's brow darkened. "Did she know him before?"
"I can't say; but she does now."
Harcourt's face was heavy with distrust.
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