N less than a week from their first meeting, Edith Garwood and Joe Kent were giving a very fair imitation of a flirtation. Joe, as has been said before, was merely an average young man. He was not genuinely or at all in love at first; but he was strongly attracted, and he played the pleasant game without much thought of consequences. And Edith Garwood, being so constituted that admiration was as the breath of life to her, entered into it with zest.
Not that she confined herself to Joe. Mallane, Leadly, and half a dozen others basked in the sunshine of her smiles, and she held the balance fairly level, enjoying her power. Thus jealousies sprang up which threatened to disrupt the entente cordiale normally existing in the younger set of Falls City. These were by no means confined to the young men, for certain young ladies found themselves suddenly deserted by cavaliers to whose loyalty they would have sworn, and were much displeased thereby.
These things bore somewhat hardly on Jack Crooks. She was a frank, unspoiled, straightforward girl, and loyalty to her friends was one of her distinguishing features. But she was very human, and the general male adoration of her guest made her just a little tired. No young hostess likes to be completely outshone by a visitor, even a very lovely one, and to find herself practically overlooked by the young men of her own town was a new and unpleasant experience.
“I thought Joe, anyway, had more sense,” she reflected. “She doesn't care for him any more than for the others, and he ought to see it. Oh, well, let him burn his fingers. I don't care.”
But she did care, because he was a very old friend, and she rather resented the pumping process to which Miss Garwood subjected her one evening. That young lady, after eliciting certain information as to the habits, characters, and worldly prospects of several young gentlemen, at last came around to Kent, a sequence which was suspicious in itself.
“Now your Mr. Kent, dear—tell me about him!”
“He's not my Mr. Kent,” said Jack, a shade of red stealing into her cheeks. “Joe's a nice boy, quite the nicest I know. We played together when we were kids—that is, he condescended to amuse me when he was nine and I was five, and that's quite a concession for a boy, isn't it? Lately he's been away at college, and so we haven't seen much of each other.”
“His father died recently. He is the only son, isn't he?”
“Yes. And his mother died when he was a little fellow, so he is quite alone. He is carrying on the business himself.”
“It's a big business, isn't it? Somebody said the late Mr. Kent was quite wealthy.”
Jack's brows drew together a little. She disliked these questions, perfectly natural though they were.
“I believe he was; that is, of course, he owned mills and timber limits and so on. I suppose Joe is well off, but he has never confided in me.”
“But he may some day?” The unmistakable meaning in the words brought the red to Jack's cheeks again. She turned the question carelessly.
“Oh, perhaps, when he is in a confidential mood. He always was a clam, though.”
“Jack, dear,” said Miss Garwood, “look at me. Is there anything between you and Mr. Kent?”
“Not a blessed thing,” said Jack honestly. “Why?”
“I wanted to make sure I wasn't trespassing,” replied Miss Garwood lightly.
“Well, you're not,” said Jack. “Now let me ask a question: Have you fallen in love with him?”
“No, not exactly,” said Miss Garwood. “But—well, dearie, I half suspect that he has fallen in love with me.”
In spite of herself Jack winced. It was what she had told herself, but to hear it from Edith Garwood's careless lips was different. And yet why should she care? Joe was no more to her than any other old friend. Naturally he would fall in love some day and marry. Perhaps Edith, in spite of her denial, did care for him. In that caseShe gave herself a mental shake and met the curious look in her guest's blue eyes squarely.
“I don't see how he could help it,” she said truthfully. “He isn't the only one, either. Shall you marry him, Edith?”
Edith Garwood laughed, well pleased, for she liked to be told of her conquests. “It's rather early to say,” she replied. “You see, dear, he hasn't asked me yet. And if he did, there are all sorts of things to be considered.”
“Such as what?” asked Jack. “If you love one another that's the main thing, isn't it?”
“You dear, unsophisticated child!” laughed Miss Garwood. “That's only one thing. We should have to live after we were married, you see.”
“Well, I suppose Joe has enough money for that,” Jack commented. “And then you have plenty of money yourself, or your father has.”