In the end I let it stay on my hand, of course, for, after all, I suppose
I am betrothed to him.
So it happened that I was almost late for dinner at the Bakers', and quite
late when I really got inside the house; for I walked past the door two or
three times before I could muster up courage to ring the bell. When I
finally ran up the steps, my umbrella was powdered white, and snow and
water were dripping off my skirts. My heart was beating fast with dread
and expectation; I was sure no one would know me.
"I--I'm too wet for the parlour," I said to the maid who came to let me
in; and after a single startled, puzzled look, she went to tell some one
of my arrival. There I stood in my shabby mackintosh, looking at a huge,
gilt-framed picture of the Judge, until a plump little robin of a woman,
in a black dress with a dash of red at the throat, came trotting out to
meet me.
That was Aunt; in spite of my fright and self-consciousness I wanted to
laugh to see her bright eyes look at me in amazement that grew almost to
panic. She didn't know me; the servant could not have caught my name.
"Did you--wish to see me?" she finally managed to say.
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