" Miss Cornelia was an incorrigible matchmaker.
Nevertheless, she was more concerned with "the problem of Dale"
than she would have admitted. Dale, at her age, with her charm
and beauty--why, she ought to behave as if she were walking on
air, thought her aunt worriedly. "And instead she acts more as if
she were walking on pins and needles. She seems to like being
here--I know she likes me--I'm pretty sure she's just as pleased
to get a little holiday from Sally and Harry--she amuses herself--
she falls in with any plan I want to make, and yet--" And yet
Dale was not happy--Miss Cornelia felt sure of it. "It isn't
natural for a girl to seem so lackluster and--and quiet--at her
age and she's nervous, too--as if something were preying on her
mind--particularly these last few days. If she were in love
with somebody--somebody Sally didn't approve of particularly--
well, that would account for it, of course--but Sally didn't say
anything that would make me think that--or Dale either--though
I don't suppose Dale would, yet, even to me. I haven't seen so
much of her in these last two years--"
Then Miss Cornelia's mind seized upon a sentence in a hurried flow
of her sister's last instructions--a sentence that had passed
almost unnoticed at the time--something about Dale and "an
unfortunate attachment--but of course, Cornelia, dear, she's so
young--and I'm sure it will come to nothing now her father and I
have made our attitude plain!"
"Pshaw--I bet that's it," thought Miss Cornelia shrewdly.
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