As for Jerome, he stood still, looking at her.
"Why, J'rome, don't you see who 'tis ?" cried his mother, in her sharp, excited voice, yet with an encouraging smile--the smile of a mother who would put a child upon its best behavior for the sake of her own pride.
Jerome murmured, "Good-evening." He made a desperate grasp at his self-possession, but scarcely succeeded.
Lucina pulled a little fleecy white wrap over her head, and immediately took leave.

Jerome stood aside to let her pass.

Elmira followed her to the outer door, and his mother called him in a sharp whisper, "J'rome, come here." When he had reached his mother's side she pinched his arm hard.

"Go home with her," she whispered.
Jerome stared at her.
"Do ye hear what I say?
Go home with her." "I can't," he almost groaned then.
"Can't?
Ain't you ashamed of yourself?
What ails ye?
Lettin' of a lady like her go home all alone this dark night." Elmira ran back into the parlor.

"Oh, Jerome, you ought to go with her, you ought to!" she cried, softly.