"But wait, Mother, wait until I can manage to meet the girl I've
seen. Wait until I have a chance to show her to you!" he begged.
"I suppose I shall be forced," she said. "I've always dreaded it,
now here it comes. Oh, why couldn't it have been Kate? Why did
she go to that silly concert? If only I'd kept her here, and we'd
walked down to the station. I'd half a mind to!"
Then the door opened, and Kate stepped into the room. She stood
still, looking at them. John Jardine stood up, looking at her.
His mother sat staring at them in turn. Kate recovered first.
"Please excuse me," she said.
She laid the letters on a small table and turned to go. John
caught his mother's hand closer, when he found himself holding it.
"If you know the young lady, Mother," he said, "why don't you
introduce us?"
"Oh, I was so bewildered by your coming," she said. "Kate, dear,
let me present my son."
Kate crossed the room, and looking straight into each other's eyes
they shook hands and found chairs.
"How was your concert, my dear?" asked Mrs. Jardine.
"I don't think it was very good," said Kate. "Not at all up to my
expectations. How did you like it, Mr. Jardine?"
"Was that a concert?" he asked.
"It was supposed to be," said Kate.
"Thank you for the information," he said. "I didn't see it, I
didn't hear it, I don't know where I was."
"This is most astonishing," said Kate.
Mrs. Jardine looked at her son, her eyes two big imperative
question marks. He nodded slightly.
"My soul!" she cried, then lay back in her chair half-laughing,
half-crying, until Kate feared she might have another attack of
heart trouble.