“I have a friend, Mr. Rowantree,” I said, “who likes to tell me about the comedy of manners. Isn’t that what madam grandmother plays all of the time?”
“Just! But isn’t she exquisite? A survival of a splendid old time.”
“Yes. Oh, you can’t think how I admire and love her.”
“Yes, I can. I can very easily think how you do. Shall you confine yourself in your associations, Miss Knox, to the Ravanels and the Grévys? Why not cut out the Ravanels?”
“There aren’t many of them left, are there?” I asked more gravely. “And you—shall I have many Grévy’s to choose from?”
“There’s my great aunt and my mother and my married brother and some second cousins—nice girls they are, too.”
“Oh, that’s quite a selection. Now tell me about my Carin.”
But just then, of course, we were interrupted, and the only other times I got a chance to talk with him was when we were dancing together. That was quite a number of times, because I had him put down three dances for you, and I acted as your substitute.
All joking aside, Carin, I saw as much of him as I could because I was determined to find out what he was like. He would have to be so very, very fine to be worthy of you. I can see, my dear, partly from what you say and still more from what you do not say, that this is a serious matter with you. So I dropped all my nonsense and was grave with him, and he was grave with me, and I liked him—Oh, tremendously. He is earnest and ambitious and full of the new time. He doesn’t care any more about family than is right and sensible, and he’s determined to be a fine and successful man on his own account. What is more, he appreciates you, Carin! He does! I wouldn’t rest till I had found out whether he did or not. It is unnecessary to say what a gentleman I think him; and though he is not exactly handsome, he has a manliness and a grace that is even better.
Yes, my blessings are all ready for you. Just let me know whenever I am to bestow them.
Annie Laurie has a tiny, beautiful little diamond on a thread of gold which she wears on the little finger of her left hand.
“Annie Laurie,” I said, “that ring looks as if it had a history. It has a kind of a we’d-better-wait-a-while-before-we-tell-our-friends look.”
“Does it, impudent one?” she laughed. “Well, then it looks to be just what it is. Sam gave it to me.”