"She is
not seeming so gayly as she was being."
March smiled. "We are none of us so gayly as we were being, Lili. The
summer is going."
"But Mr. Burnamy will be returning, not true?" the girl asked, resting
her tray on the corner of the table.
"No, I'm afraid he won't," March returned sadly.
"He was very good. He was paying the proprietor for the dishes that
Augusta did break when she was falling down. He was paying before he went
away, when he was knowing that the proprietor would make Augusta to pay."
"Ah!" said March, and his wife said, "That was like him!" and she eagerly
explained to Mrs. Adding how good and great Burnamy had been in this
characteristic instance, while Lili waited with the tray to add some
pathetic facts about Augusta's poverty and gratitude. "I think Miss
Triscoe ought to know it. There goes the wretch, now!" she broke off.
"Don't look at him!" She set her husband the example of averting his face
from the sight of Stoller sullenly pacing up the middle aisle of the
grove, and looking to the right and left for a vacant table. "Ugh! I hope
he won't be able to find a single place."
Mrs. Adding gave one of her pealing laughs, while Rose watched March's
face with grave sympathy.
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