_March 11._ When I left My Fancy, after my visit, Agnes had nothing but
praise for me. “I was certain that you and Maizie would be friends if
you ever really knew each other,” she said triumphantly. Unfortunately,
our first meeting in the city served only to prove the reverse. In one
of my daily walks up-town, I met you and Agnes outside a shop where you
had been buying Christmas gifts for the boys of your Neighborhood
Guild. You were looking for the carriage, about which there had been
some mistake, and I helped you search. When our hunt was unsuccessful,
you both said you would rather walk than let me get a cab, having been
deterred only by the growing darkness, and not by the snow. So chatting
merrily, away we went, through the elfin flakes which seemed so eager
to kiss your cheeks, till your home was reached.
“If we come in, will you give us some tea?” asked Agnes.
“Tea, cake, chocolates, and conversation,” you promised.
“I am sorry,” I said, “but I cannot spare the time.”
I thought you and Agnes exchanged glances. “Please, Doc—” she began;
but you interrupted her by saying proudly, “We must not take any more
of Dr. Hartzmann’s time, Agnes. Will you come in?”
“No,” replied Agnes. “I’ll go home before it’s any darker. Good-night.”
I started to walk with her the short distance, but the moment we were
out of hearing she turned towards me and cried, “I hate you!” As I made
no reply, she demanded impatiently, “What makes you behave so
abominably?” When I was still silent she continued: “I told you how
Maizie felt, and I thought it was all right, and now you do it again.
It’s too bad! Well, can’t you say something? Why do you do it?”
“There is nothing for me to say, Miss Blodgett,” I responded sadly.
“You might at least do it to please me,” she persisted, “even if you
don’t like Maizie.”
I made no answer, and we walked the rest of the distance in silence. At
the stoop, however, Agnes asked, “Will you go with me to call on
Maizie, some afternoon?”