This, it felt, was something like
a proper spirit. There was no compromise here. A thrill of conscious
virtue, raised to the _n_th power, shot through the circle.
"You think that Mr. Macnair ought to take cognizance of it officially?"
asked Miss Atkins. (Being the secretary she used many beautiful words.)
"I do."
"But he and Mrs. Coombe are such friends!" objected the younger Miss
Sinclair, who was a kindly creature.
An electric silence fell upon the quilters. Every one looked toward the
president.
"I cannot allow such insinuations to be made at this meeting," said the
President firmly.
"But--but I did not insinuate anything!" stammered poor Miss Jessie who,
severely jogged by her sister and transfixed by the President's eye, had
turned the colour of the crimson square before her.
"We all know," went on the President more mildly, "that Mr. Macnair
calls fairly often at the Elms. We may even have heard rumours to the
effect that he intends--I hardly know how to phrase it, but as our
minister is unmarried and Mrs.
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