"
"That's the newest dodge," said Mrs. Thoresby, with a little sarcastic
laugh. "Girls of that sort are always looking for geodes." After this,
Mrs. Thoresby had always a little well-bred venom for Leslie
Goldthwaite.
At the same time Leslie herself, coming out on the piazza for a moment
after tea, met Miss Craydocke approaching over the lawn. She had only
her errand to introduce her, but she would not lose the opportunity. She
went straight up to the little woman, in a frank, sweet way. But a bit
of embarrassment underneath, the real respect that made her
timid,--perhaps a little nervous fatigue after the excitement and
exertion of the day,--did what nerves and embarrassment, and reverence
itself will do sometimes,--played a trick with her perfectly clear
thought on its way to her tongue.
"Miss Graywacke, I believe?" she said, and instantly knew the dreadful
thing that she had done.
"Exactly," said the lady, with an amused little smile.
"Oh, I _do_ beg your pardon," began Leslie, blushing all over.
"No need,--no need. Do you think I don't know what name I go by, behind
my back? They suppose because I'm old and plain and single, and wear a
front, and don't understand rats and the German, that I'm deaf and blind
and stupid.
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