It was Miss
Bessie Brodie.
Poor Dunn! He was not skilled in the fine art of social deception. He
could only gaze stupidly and with blinking eyes upon his questioner,
devoutly hoping meanwhile that the tears would not fall.
"Splendid Highlander, isn't he?" exclaimed Miss Bessie, hastily
withdrawing her eyes from his face, for she was much too fine a lady to
let him see her surprise.
"What?" exclaimed Dunn. "I don't know. I mean--yes, awfully--oh,
confound the thing, it's a beastly shame!"
Thereupon Miss Bessie turned her big blue eyes slowly upon him. "Meaning
what?" she said quietly.
"Oh, I beg pardon. I'm just a fool. Oh, hang it all!" Dunn could not
recover his composure. He backed out of the circle of admirers into a
darker corner.
"Fool?" said Miss Brodie, stepping back with him. "And why, pray? Can
I know? I suppose it's Cameron again," she continued. "Oh, I know all
about you and your mothering of him."
"Mothering!" said Dunn bitterly. "That is just what he needs, by Jove.
His mother has been dead these five years, and that's been the ruin of
him."
The cheers from Cameron's admirers broke in upon Dunn's speech. "Oh,
it's too ghastly," he muttered.
"Is it really so bad? Can't I help?" cried Miss Brodie. "You know I've
had some experience with boys.
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