gentleman who was strolling behind and whose public criticism, as well as his public mirth, appeared to arouse in her only a soft sense of superiority. Rose sat down again where she had sat before, keeping Effie in her lap and smoothing out her fine feathers. Then their companion, after a little more detached contemplation, also took his former place.
"She makes me remember!" he presently observed.
"That extraordinary scene—poor Julia's message? You can fancy whether I forget it!"
Dennis was silent a little; after which he said quietly: "You've more to keep it in mind."
"I can assure you I've plenty!" Rose replied.
"And the young lady who was also present—isn't she the Miss Martle———?"
"Whom I spoke of to that woman? She's the Miss Martle. What about her?" Rose asked with her cheek against the child's.
"Does she also remember?"
"Like you and me? I haven't the least idea."
Once more Dennis paused; his pauses were filled with his friendly gaze at their small companion.
"She's here again—like you?"
