You told me so yourself. And I am lovely. Basil says that as well as Fred. Do you want a man to lie and say I am ugly?""You are fencing the real question. He had no business to use the word `my.' You are engaged to Basil Stanhope, not to Fred Mostyn.""I am Basil's lovely fiancee; I am Fred's lovely friend.""Oh! I hope Fred understands the difference.""Of course he does. Some people are always thinking evil.""I was thinking of Mr. Stanhope's rights."
"Thank you, Ethel; but I can take care of Mr. Stanhope's rights without your assistance.
If you had said you were thinking of Ethel Rawdon's rights you would have been nearer the truth.""Dora, I will not listen----"
"Oh, you shall listen to me! I know that you expected Fred to fall in love with you, but if he did not like to do so, am I to blame?"Ethel was resuming her coat at this point in the conversation, and Dora understood the proud silence with which the act was being accomplished. Then a score of good reasons for preventing such a definite quarrel flashed through her selfish little mind, and she threw her arms around Ethel and begged a thousand pardons for her rudeness. And Ethel had also reasons for avoiding dissension at this time. A break in their friendship now would bring Dora forward to explain, and Dora had a wonderful cleverness in presenting her own side of any question. Ethel shrunk from her innuendoes concerning Fred, and she knew that Basil would be made to consider her a meddling, jealous girl who willingly saw evil in Dora's guileless enjoyment of a clever man's company.
To be misunderstood, to be blamed and pitied, to be made a pedestal for Dora's superiority, was a situation not to be contemplated.
It was better to look over Dora's rudeness in the flush of Dora's pretended sorrow for it. So they forgave each other, or said they did, and then Dora explained herself.
She declared that she had not the least intention of any wrong. "You see, Ethel, what a fool the man is about me. Somebody says we ought to treat a fool according to his folly. That is all I was doing. I am sure Basil is so far above Fred Mostyn that Icould never put them in comparison--and Basil knows it. He trusts me.""Very well, Dora. If Basil knows it, and trusts you, I have no more to say. I am now sorry I named the subject.""Never mind, we will forget that it was named. The fact is, Ethel, I want all the fun I can get now. When I am Basil's wife Ishall have to be very sedate, and of course not even pretend to know if any other man admires me. Little lunches with Fred, theater and opera parties, and even dances will be over for me. Oh, dear, how much I am giving up for Basil! And sometimes I think he never realizes how dreadful it must be for me.""You will have your lover all the time then. Surely his constant companionship will atone for all you relinquish.""Take off your coat and hat, Ethel, and sit down comfortably. I don't know about Basil's constant companionship. Tete-a-tetes are tiresome affairs sometimes.""Yes," replied Ethel, as she half-reluc- tantly removed her coat, "they were a bore undoubtedly even in Paradise. I wonder if Eve was tired of Adam's conversation, and if that made her listen to--the other party.""I am so glad you mentioned that circumstance, Ethel. I shall remember it. Some day, no doubt, I shall have to remind Basil of the failure of Adam to satisfy Eve's idea of perfect companionship." And Dora put her pretty, jeweled hands up to her ears and laughed a low, musical laugh with a childish note of malice running through it.
This pseudo-reconciliation was not conducive to pleasant intercourse. After a short delay Ethel made an excuse for an early departure, and Dora accepted it without her usual remonstrance. The day had been one of continual friction, and Dora's irritable pettishness hard to bear, because it had now lost that childish unreason which had always induced Ethel's patience, for Dora had lately put away all her ignorant immaturities. She had become a person of importance, and had realized the fact. The young ladies of St.
Jude's had made a pet of their revered rector's love, and the elder ladies had also shown a marked interest in her. The Dennings' fine house was now talked about and visited. Men of high financial power respected Mr. Dan Denning, and advised the social recognition of his family; and Mrs. Denning was not now found more eccentric than many other of the new rich, who had been tolerated in the ranks of the older plutocrats. Even Bryce had made the standing he desired. He was seen with the richest and idlest young men, and was invited to the best houses. Those fashionable women who had marriageable daughters considered him not ineligible, and men temporarily hampered for cash knew that they could find smiling assistance for a consideration at Bryce's little office on William Street.
These and other points of reflection troubled Ethel, and she was glad the long trial was nearing its end, for she knew quite well the disagreement of that evening had done no good. Dora would certainly repeat their conversation, in her own way of interpreting it, to both Basil Stanhope and Fred Mostyn.
More than likely both Bryce and Mrs.
Denning would also hear how her innocent kindness had been misconstrued; and in each case she could imagine the conversation that took place, and the subsequent bestowal of pitying, scornful or angry feeling that would insensibly find its way to her consciousness without any bird of the air to carry it.
