She had followed me and was standing in the path, a bit out of breath, as if she had hurried.

I waited for her to speak, but she did not.
"Good afternoon, Miss Colton," I said, awkwardly.

Some one had to speak, we could not stand staring at each other like that.
She said "Good afternoon," also.

Then there was another interval of silence.
"You--you wished to speak to me ?" I stammered.
"I DID speak to you," with significant emphasis on the "did." "I thought you might, possibly, be interested to know that Don and I reached home safely the other day." Considering that she had called upon Mother since, it seemed to me that my knowledge of her reaching home safely might have been taken for granted; but I said: "I am very glad to hear it, Miss Colton." "We had no difficulty in finding the way after you left us." The way being almost straight, and over the main traveled roads, this, too, was fairly obvious.
"I felt sure you would have no trouble--after I left you," I answered, with a significant emphasis of my own.
She did not reply and, as I had nothing further to say, I waited for her to continue, or to break off the interview.

She did neither, but stood, as if irresolute, looking down and stirring with her foot the leaves at the edge of the path.