Bert
thought for a second that this was more than mere persiflage, for
the expression on the girl's face was new. Later he reminded
himself that they all used curious forms of speech. "I just was
too tired to get up this morning," a girl who had actually gotten
up would say, or someone would comment upon a late train: "The old
train actually never did get here!"
After a while he took Nancy to lunch once or twice, and one day
took her to the Plaza, where his mother happened to be staying
with Cousin Mary Winthrop and Cousin Anna Baldwin, and his mother
said that Nancy was a sweet, lovely girl. Bert had quite a thrill
when he saw the familiar, beautiful face turned seriously and with
pretty concern toward his mother, and he liked Nancy's composure
among the rather formal older women. She managed her tea and her
gloves and her attentions prettily, thought Bert. When he took her
home at six o'clock he was conscious that he had passed an
invisible barrier in their relationship; she knew his mother. They
were of one breed.
But that night, when he went back to the hotel to dine, his mother
drew him aside.
"Not serious, dear--between you and Miss Barrett, I mean?"
Bert laughed in pleasant confusion.
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