In a moment they heard Thatcher's voice peremptorily demanding his motor from the steps of the entrance.
"Pettit's lecture dates must be multiplying," observed Dan carelessly.
"They seem to be," Bassett replied, indifferently.
"I can find out easily enough whether he lectured at Churubusco last night or not, or is going to invade Brazil to-morrow," Dan suggested.
"Easy, but unnecessary.

I think I know what's in your mind," Bassett answered, as Marian, interested in the passing show, turned away, "but it isn't of the slightest importance one way or another." "That was Miss Bosworth," announced Marian--"the one in the white flannel coat; she's certainly grand to look at." "Please keep your eyes to the front," Bassett admonished; "you mustn't stare at people, Marian." And then, having dismissed Pettit, and feeling called upon to bring his daughter into the conversation, he said: "Marian, you remember the Miss Garrison your aunt is so fond of?
Her grandfather died the other day and Miss Garrison had to come home.

Your Aunt Sally is in Montgomery with her now.

Mr.Harwood went to the funeral." "That's too bad," said Marian, at once interested.

"Sylvia's a mighty nice girl, and I guess her grandfather had just about raised her, from what she told me.