ternoon, though
she tries to sleep a little sometimes if she's going to a ball. But
when we got home, Mrs. Ess Kay and Sally took it quite as a matter of
course that we would lie down before going to Coney Island to dine and
see fireworks and other things. They were surprised when I didn't want
to, but Mrs. Ess Kay said in that case Potter would entertain me while
they rested. I told her it wasn't necessary, but Potter wanted me to
bet my sweet life that it was just the one Proposition on earth for
him, so he and Vivace and I sat in the fountain court while Mrs. Ess
Kay and Sally went upstairs.
Potter was suddenly a changed man, as soon as he and I were alone
together, becoming exactly what he had been yesterday when I first ran
downstairs, and he introduced himself.
He didn't chaff me about my country, and make fun of our government, or
hint that American men were the only men living who knew how to treat
women, as he seemed to delight in doing when his sister and cousin were
with us. He began by offering to teach me some of his best slang; but
as the lesson went on, it turned out to be rather more like a lesson in
flirtation.
I would have been even more startled than I was, if I hadn't already
had a little experience on board ship, with Mr. Doremus. At home I've
often thought it must be very pleasant to be out, and able to flirt;
but I never had a chance, because, as Vic said, it was her turn first,
and the only young man, not a relation, that I ever talked with alone
was the curate, who would as soon have tried to flirt with a Bishopess
as with one of Mother's daughters.
But I like Mr. Doremus' kind of flirtation almost better than Mr.
Parker's. Mr. Doremus makes you feel as if you were a beautiful young
heroine in a play, and you are almost sorry there is no audience to
applaud the witty things he says, and the smart answers he inspires you
to think of, just as if he were giving you a clue.
Potter is different, and instead of an audience you want a kind of
perpetual chaperon, not a Briareus creature with lots of hands to
applaud.
It is silly, I know, to blush and simper; but I couldn't think of
anything else to do, Potter was so alarming; and I wouldn't allow him
to tell my fortune by my hand, for it was much too hot. Even if it
hadn't been I shouldn't have wanted my hand held, for I do hate being
touched by anyone I'm not fond of. When I told him that, he said it was
very simple; what I had to do was
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