She felt a cheat and a sneak to his unsuspecting retreating back. ‘Yes, dear Nan, a flirtation. The girl was pretty, and apparently a lady. I must stay a minute longer, if only to see you smile. "My chickens are hatched, or, at least, nearly so," replied Shotbolt, with increased merriment. She acted as her mother had taught her to. Yet she took with her an uneasy consciousness that in this affair might lie the germs of future trouble. I wouldn’t recommend doing anything. Her aunt had a once exasperating habit of interrupting her work with demands for small household services, but now Ann Veronica rendered them with a queer readiness of anticipatory propitiation.
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