Drake
sighed, "but I've thought it out. It is as plain as the nose on your
face. You know an' I know she was tickled to death with it till she
met Mr. Mostyn in the yard just now. Mark my words, he said something
to her about the style of it. Maybe it's not exactly the latest
wrinkle accordin' to town notions."
"Yes, that's it." Miss Munson paused in her flurried efforts to
restore the dress to its wrapper. The twine hung from her teeth as she
stood glaring. "Yes, _he's_ at the bottom of it. As if a man of _his_
stripe an' character would be a judge. I have heard a few items about
him if you all haven't. Folks talk about 'im scand'lous in Atlanta.
They say he leads a fast life down there. You'd better keep Dolly away
from 'im. He won't do. He has robbed good men an' women of their money
in his shady deals, an' folks tell all sorts o' tales about 'im."
"Thar you go ag'in," Tom Drake broke in, with a hearty laugh. "First
one thing an' then another. You would swear a man's life away one
minute an' hug it back into 'im the next. Now, I kin prove what I say,
an' you both ought to be ashamed. Mostyn not only told Dolly that
dress was the purtiest thing he ever seed, but he told me to come in
here an' make 'er take it.
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