D. D.")
"Miss Day!"--with a soft, irrepressible giggle--"He has turned his horse
and is riding after us."
"Never mind. Let us hurry on."
But when the mare was pulled up beside her, her hoofs clattering on the
cobble-stones of the street, Miss Day, in spite of herself, must stop.
"How do, Deleah?" Kitty Miller had again the privilege of seeing how
beautifully the hat came off, exposing for quite an appreciable time the
young man's fair, smooth head. "Whoa, Nance!" to the satin-skinned, black
mare, who objected to being pulled into the gutter running by the side of
the pavement. "I say--there was something I particularly wanted to say to
you, Deleah. Whoa! Steady, old girl! I say--how's Bessie?"
"Bessie is very well, thank you, Mr. Forcus."
"'Mr. Forcus?' Come, I say, Deleah! you aren't going to put me at arm's
length, that fashion! I was going to ask you--How is Bessie?"
"Very well, thank you."
"I haven't seen Bessie for ages."
"Is it so long?"
"I was wondering if I might look in sometimes on Mrs. Day--"
"Mama is always busy, thank you."
"At your place, then?--Just to see--Bessie?"
"I'm sure I don't know. You'd better ask Bessie herself."
"I'll ask her when I call.
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