George one of the best friends I ever had." So saying, she swept out of the room with the air of an empress.
As for me, I felt very small. All my words rushed back upon me and overwhelmed me with mortification. I quite agreed with Judith in her judgment of me. What business had I to interfere with her, and what grudge had I against George? I never should be able to look him in the face again. If I could find any people who were going that day to America, I thought I would join them. Tears of vexation and contrition began to fill my eyes. As I forced them back, and tried to compose myself, Tom came bustling in, and with him—oh, horror!—George.
I had no time to make my escape, so I kept my disconsolate position by the fire, simply greeting the visitor with a cold bow.
"Well, Dorris!" cried Tom, "you look homesick." Rubbing his hands, he advanced towards the fire. "What's the matter! Here is George, come to take us— Where did you say you were going to take us?" appealing to his companion.
George's face seldom warms up for me as it does for Judith, and it was with a very cold expression that he answered,—
"Your sister wished to go sometime to the Stchonkine Dvor, and I thought this would be as pleasant a day as any."
"Grace has gone out in the sledge," I replied, "but she will be at home before half-past one, as we lunch at that hour. I know she will be disappointed if you don't wait for her."
