Reed's daughter and not tell us about it," she said, "and yet not—not be exactly in love with her."
"Dear me, Letitia," said her sister, pettishly, "what a dunce you are! Do you suppose John's going to drag himself over to South Park to see Colonel Reed's daughter because he 's taken a philanthropic interest in her father? One would think you 'd been raised in Oshkosh or Milpitas, to hear the things you sometimes say. But that 's not all. This morning I was in the Woman's Exchange, and who should be there but old Biddy McCormick herself. I can't endure her, you know, especially since she 's got this little prince-creature up her sleeve; but I 'm always polite to her because of Tod and you—and things generally. You never can tell what may happen. And I heard her say, 'Not that jam; I always buy the same kind—Miss Viola Reed's.' So I up and said, as innocent as Mary's little lamb, 'Do tell me, Mrs. McCormick, what jam that is you 're buying. Everything you have is always so delicious.' And she said, 'It 's some that 's made by a woman named Reed, who lives across town somewhere.' Then, when she 'd gone, I corralled the girl, and she told me it was made by a Miss Viola Reed, who lives—"
Mrs. Gault opened her jeweled card-case and produced a slip of paper with an address
