"I'm afraid I've lost my heart again," he said to himself. "That is,
again if I ever lost it before," he added.
And his mind reverted to a little episode at Bar Harbor the summer
before, and he was not sorry to feel that that wound was cured--
though, as a matter of fact, it had never amounted to more than a
scratch.
A moment later the door opened, and Parker entered, inquiring for
Miss Andrews as he did so.
"I do not know, but I will see if Miss Andrews is at home," said the
butler, ushering him into the parlor. That imposing individual knew
quite well that Miss Andrews was at home, but he also knew that it
was not his place to say so until the young lady had personally
assured him of the facts in so far as they related to this particular
caller. All went well for Parker, however. Miss Andrews consented
to be at home to him, and five minutes later she entered the drawing
room where Parker was seated.
"How do you do?" she said, frigidly, ignoring his outstretched hand.
("Think of that, will you?" interposed Harley.
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