"So should I," said Rachel abruptly; then she picked up her knife and fork
and began to eat as fast as she could.
"Oh, my dear!" cried Miss Parrott, quite horrified, "not so fast! Pray
don't, Rachel"--looking down the table-length in distress.
Rachel by this time was alive to the disgrace she was undergoing, and she
turned quite pale, and deserting her food altogether, sat stiff and
straight on her chair, too miserable to care for anything. Miss Parrott
bore this for a breathing-space, and then without a warning she slipped off
from her chair and went quickly down to the end of the table.
"I'm not blaming you, you poor little thing," she declared, bending over
the dark hair; "don't think so, Rachel."
Rachel turned with a swift movement and hid her face in the laces falling
from Miss Parrott's breast.
"I want to go home to Mrs. Henderson's," she sobbed.
"We don't care for any more luncheon, Hooper," said Miss Parrott hoarsely,
taking Rachel's hand, "We will go into the other room," and she led her off
sobbing.
When Rachel reached Hooper, however, standing petrified with surprise, she
looked up at him defiantly and brushed the tears from her cheek.
And after they had passed out, Hooper still stood in a daze. At last he
came out of it, and, ejaculating, "Well, I never did!" he began to clear
the table.
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