"Why, _Betty_!" exclaimed Jack, in surprise; then, leaning across me, he said politely, "_Please_ don't think that Betty is a rude girl, for indeed she isn't; but she is awfully quick-tempered, and when she gets mad she is apt to say lots of things that she doesn't mean. She is really quite a nice girl. I'm Jack Rose, her brother; so you see I ought to know."
"So you should; I'm glad to meet you," Hilliard said, shaking hands with Jack. Then he added to me: "I _do_ hope you and your brother will let us be friendly. I've told my mother about you both, and she wants so much to know you and your sisters. Perhaps some of you would come over and see her? She is very much of an invalid, and is not able to go out, except for a drive now and then; but when she is well enough to see them, she enjoys having visitors."
I was ashamed of having spoken so sharply, but I _didn't_ want to go and see Mrs. Erveng; so all I could say was, in a lame sort of way, "Thank you; perhaps--if papa says we may."
Instead of letting the matter drop there, he must needs go on: "I have tried several times to speak to your brother,--at college, and once on the street,--but he seems to avoid me," he said. "I wanted to explain to him; I was afraid you might think my father was severe, but he really didn't beli--he didn't suppose--that is, the young people we've known--" He stopped, looking awfully red and embarrassed, then ended up with, "I'm afraid I'm making an awful muddle of it, but I'm really very sorry; I hope you and your brother will understand that."
By "brother" I think he meant Phil, but Jack took it to himself. "Of course, oh, certainly," he said, nudging my elbow to say likewise, and bobbing his head round my shoulder.
But I wouldn't, for I understood, just as well as if Hilliard'd said it, that he--they all--thought our coming over to his house, as we had done, to sell the Fetich, was a very queer proceeding. Miss Marston had said that they must think me very unladylike. She so often tells me people think that of me that I've got used to it and don't mind; but I felt _very_ uncomfortable when it occurred to me that perhaps this boy and his father and mother thought so too. "Why didn't you say right out that you thought my dressing up and coming over to your house that way was very queer and unladylike?" I demanded. "I know it's what you think." He opened his mouth to speak, but I went on quickly: "Pooh! that's _nothing_ to what I _can_ do. I can slide down three flights of banisters without one swerve, and make worse faces than any one we know, and whistle, and brandish Indian clubs, and fence and climb besides, and, oh! lots of other things that only boys do; why, I'm strong enough to be able to thrash Jack--there _now_!"