He did not yet dream of love in connection with her, but he was conscious of a passion of surprised admiration and protectiveness.
"How is it that I have never seen you when I call on your Aunt Harriet ?" he asked when he parted with her at her own gate, a stately wrought iron affair in a tall hedge of close trimmed lilac.
"I am generally there, I think," replied Annie, but she was also conscious of a little surprise that she had not paid more attention when this young man, who looked at her so kindly, called.

Then came one of her sudden laughs.
"What is it ?" asked Von Rosen.
"Oh, nothing, except that the cat is usually there too," replied Annie.

Von Rosen looked back boyishly.
"Be sure I shall see you next time and hang the cat," he said.
When Annie was in her room unclasping her corals, she considered how very much mortified and troubled her friend, Margaret Edes, must feel.

She recalled how hideous it had all been--that appearance of the Western girl in the dining-room door-way, her rude ways, her flushed angry face.

Annie did not dream of blaming Margaret.