“If Biddy is in Heaven, we’ll let it go at that,” laughed Joe. “Why don’t you sing something touching and sentimental, appropriate to my bereaved condition? By the way, Jack, where is Drew keeping himself? I haven’t seen him lately. I was just beginning to feel de trop when he called.”
This was carrying the war into Jack’s territory. Young Drew had paid her very pronounced, attentions and had recently discontinued them, for a reason which only she and himself knew. The colour flamed into her cheeks.
“Don’t talk nonsense! There was no reason why you should feel that way.”
“Hello! You’re blushing!” Joe commented.
“I’m not; it’s the fire.”
“Is it?” said Joe sceptically. For the first time in his life he regarded her carefully. He had been used to taking Jack for granted, and had paid no more attention to her looks than the average brother pays to those of a younger sister. Now it struck him that she was pretty. Her hair was abundant, brown and glossy; her eyes and skin were clean and clear and healthy, and her small, shapely head was carried with regal uprightness; she was slim and straight and strong and capable. In fact she suddenly dawned upon his accustomed vision in an entirely new way.
“Jack,” said he, and his surprise showed in his voice, “upon my word I believe you are rather good looking!”
She rose and swept him a mock curtsey.
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“Nice eyes, plenty of hair, and a good figure,” Joe drawled. “I don’t blame Drew at all.”