"Oh, Mr. Bangs!"
Galusha's chin quivered. His face became very red.
"Why--why--why, Miss Martha, I--I--"
His agitation caused his teeth actually to chatter. Martha noticed the
chatter and misinterpreted the cause.
"Mercy me!" she cried. "You're standin' out there and freezin' to death.
Of course you are. Come right in! Primmie, open those stove dampers.
Put the kettle on front where it will boil quick.... No, Mr. Bangs, you
mustn't tell me a word until you're warm and rested. You would like to
go to your room, wouldn't you? Certainly you would. Primmie will bring
you hot water as soon as it's ready. No, don't try to tell me a word
until after you are rested and washed up."
It was a welcome suggestion, not because Galusha was so eager to "wash
up," but because he was eager, very eager, to be alone where no one
could ask more embarrassing questions. Yet the last thing he saw as he
closed his room door was the expression upon Miss Phipps' face. Hope,
relief, happiness! And what he had to tell would change them all.
Oh, if he had not been so foolishly optimistic! What should he say? If
he told the exact truth--the whole truth--
But there, what was the whole truth? After all, he did not KNOW that
nothing would come of his letter to Cousin Gussie. Something might
come of it. Yes, even something very good might come. If Cousin Gussie
himself never saw the letter, Thomas, the secretary, would see it and
very likely he would write encouragingly.
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