“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 case— She 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.”