When Littleton duly appeared at the committee meeting on the following
day, Selma saw at a glance that he was unaware of what had happened. He
looked slightly puzzled when one of the members addressed her as Mrs.
White, but evidently he regarded this as a slip of the tongue. Selma
looked, as she felt, contented and vivacious. She had dressed herself
simply, but with effective trigness. To those who knew her experience,
her appearance indicated courage and becoming self-respect. Public
opinion, even as embodied in the church committee, while deploring the
necessity, was not disposed to question the propriety of her action.
That is, all except Mrs. Taylor. In her, Selma thought she had detected
signs of coldness, a sort of suspicious reservation of judgment, which
contrasted itself unpleasantly with the sympathetic attitude of the
others, who were fain to refer to her, in not altogether muffled
whispers, as a plucky, independent, little woman. Hence, she was glad
that Mrs. Taylor happened to be detained at home by illness on this
afternoon, and that, accordingly, she was free to enjoy unreservedly the
dramatic nature of the situation. Her heart beat a little faster as the
chairman, turning to her to ask a question, addressed her unmistakably
as Mrs. White. She could not refrain from casting half-amused,
half-pathetic sheep's eyes at Littleton. He started visibly, regarded
her for, a moment in obvious amazement, then flushed to the roots of his
hair. She felt the blood rising to her own cheeks, and a sensation of
mild triumph. The meeting was over and the members were merely lingering
to tie up the loose threads of the matter arranged for. In a few moments
Selma found herself with the architect sufficiently apart from the
others for him to ask:

"Two persons have addressed you this afternoon as Mrs. White. I do not
understand."