. . I say," Martin suddenly raised his head as though he
heard something, "where's Amy?"
"Changing. She's been paying a call on the Miss Cardinals. Thought
it would be polite because of the new niece.--Six, seven, eight and
nine . . ."
"What did she think of her?"
"Of whom, dear?"
"Of the niece."
"Oh, I don't think she liked her very much. She said that she was
plain and silent--and looked cross, Amy thought."
"Oh yes, Amy would." His face, as was his way when he was vexed,
flushed very slowly, the deeper red rising through the red-brown
until, ceasing in the middle of his forehead, it left a white line
beneath his hair. "She isn't cross a bit."
"I don't know, dear. It isn't my opinion. I only tell you what Amy
said. People here don't seem to like her. Mrs. Smith was telling me
yesterday that she's so difficult to talk to and seems to know
nothing about anything, poor girl."
"Mrs. Smith!" He swung his body on his hips indignantly. "A lot she
knows about anything! I hate that woman and her chattering
daughter."
"Well, dear, I don't know, I'm sure; Mrs. Smith always seems to me
very kind.
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