"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. "He certainly doesn't deserve one. Don't let us
keep you from offering Miss Triscoe any consolation you can." They got
up, and the boy gathered up the gloves, umbrella, and handkerchief which
the ladies let drop from their laps.

"Have you been telling?" March asked his wife.

"Have I told you anything?" she demanded of Mrs. Adding in turn.
"Anything that you didn't as good as know, already?"

"Not a syllable!" Mrs. Adding replied in high delight. "Come, Rose!"

"Well, I suppose there's no use saying anything," said March, after she
left them.

"She had guessed everything, without my telling her," said his wife.

"About Stoller?"