She had a brisk, familiar, slightly impatient way, and if
she had not spoken so fast, and had more of the softness of the Southern
matron, she would have reminded him of a certain type of woman he had
seen of old, before the changes in his own part of the world--the
clever, capable, hospitable proprietress, widowed or unmarried, of a big
plantation carried on by herself. "If you are her cousin, do take Miss
Chancellor to have some supper--instead of going away," she went on,
with her infelicitous readiness.
At this Olive instantly seated herself again.
"I am much obliged to you; I never touch supper. I shall not leave this
room--I like it."
"Then let me send you something--or let Mr. ----, your cousin, remain
with you."
Olive looked at Mrs. Burrage with a strange beseechingness, "I am very
tired, I must rest. These occasions leave me exhausted."
"Ah yes, I can imagine that. Well, then, you shall be quite quiet--I
shall come back to you." And with a smile of farewell for Basil Ransom,
Mrs. Burrage moved away.
Basil lingered a moment, though he saw that Olive wished to get rid of
him. "I won't disturb you further than to ask you a single question," he
said. "Where are you staying? I want to come and see Miss Tarrant. I
don't say I want to come and see you, because I have an idea that it
would give you no pleasure." It had occurred to him that he might obtain
their address from Mrs. Luna--he only knew vaguely it was Tenth Street;
much as he had displeased her she couldn't refuse him that; but suddenly
the greater simplicity and frankness of applying directly to Olive, even
at the risk of appearing to brave her, recommended itself.
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