She was sick of it already
only she hadn't the sense to know it. It wasn't good enough.
Nothing suited-the house--the grounds--nothing!
In the midst of her activities Betty occasionally found time to
think of Bruce Carrington. She was sure she did not wish to see
him again! But when three weeks had passed she began to feel
incensed that he had not appeared. She thought of him with hot
cheeks and a quickening beat of the heart. It was anger.
Naturally she was very indignant, as she had every right to be!
He was the first man who had dared--!
Then one day when she had decided for ever to banish all memory
of him from her mind, and never, under any circumstances, to
think of him again, he presented himself at Belle Plain.
She was in her room just putting the finishing touches to an
especially satisfying toilet when her maid tapped on the door and
told her there was a gentleman in the parlor who wished to see
her.
"Is it Mr. Norton?" asked Betty.
"No, Miss--he didn't give no name, Miss."
When Betty entered the parlor a moment later she saw her caller
standing with his back turned toward her as he gazed from one of
the windows, but she instantly recognized those broad shoulders,
and the fine poise of the shapely head that surmounted them.
"Oh, Mr. Carrington--" and Betty stopped short, while her face
grew rather pale and then crimsoned. Then she advanced quite
boldly and held out a frigid hand, which he took carefully.
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