earnestly. "It isn't really against the cathedrals—or the towns. It's against the way we Americans take them; and against what we make them—a fashion."
"I know, of course," the girl replied, meeting his glance evenly. "And I hate it myself—though I have to do it. And mother just enjoys it thoroughly and doesn't think about it at all."
"I didn't mean to criticise you!" Preston cried guiltily. "I don't think your mother does it in the 'fashionable' way at all. But—I'm glad you hate it too, just the same," he confessed honestly.
"But now, Mr. Preston, explain yourself!" the girl cut short their serious confidences and turned to him teasingly again. "What are you doing here about these towns? You have evaded long enough. Confess!"
"Your mother sees us!" Preston replied. "Come. She is waiting. Or aren't you sure yet it is safe to take me to her without knowing why I am about these towns?"
57
