All in all, nothing except the expression of Noble’s face and the somewhat ill-chosen pansy in his buttonhole hinted of the remarkable.  Yet even here was a thing for which he was not responsible himself; it was altogether the work of Julia.  What her work was, in the case of Noble Dill, may be expressed in a word—­a word used not only by the whole Atwater family connection, in completely expressing Noble’s condition, but by Noble’s own family connection as well.  This complete word was “awful.”

Florence was the one exception on the Atwater side:  she was far, far from thinking or speaking of Noble Dill in that way, although, until she looked up “uncouth” in Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, she had not found suitable means to describe him.  And now, as she walked at his side, she found her sensations to be nothing short of thrilling.  For it must be borne in mind that this was her first and wholly unexpected outburst into society; the experience was that of an obscure aerolite suddenly become a noble meteor.  She longed to say or do something magnificent—­something strange and exhilarating, in keeping with her new station in life.

It was this longing, and by no means a confirmed unveracity, that prompted her to amplify her comments upon her own filial independence.  “Oh, I guess I pretty near never do anything I don’t want to,” she said.  “I kind of run the house to suit myself.  I guess if the truth had to be told, I just about run the whole Atwater family, when it comes to that!”

The statement was so noticeable that it succeeded in turning Noble’s attention from the back of Julia’s head.  “You do?” he said.  “Well, that seems queer,” he added absently.

“Oh, I don’t know!” she laughed.  In her increasing exaltation things appeared actually to be as she wished them to be; an atmosphere both queenly and adventurous seemed to invest her, and any remnants of human caution in her were assuaged by the circumstance that her Aunt Julia’s attention was subject to the strong demands necessarily imposed upon anybody taking a walk between two gentlemen who do not “speak” to each other.  “Oh, I don’t know,” said Florence.  “The family’s used to it by this time, I guess.  The way I do things, they haf to be, I guess.  When they don’t like it I don’t say much for a while, then I just——­” She paused, waiting for her imagination to supply a sequel to the drama just sketched.  “Well, I guess they kind of find out they better step around pretty lively,” she concluded darkly.  “They don’t bother around too much!”

“I suppose not,” said Noble, his vacancy and credulity continuing to dovetail perfectly.