“A good many of them, I should say. Who is this fortunate person?”
“Mrs. Appleton.”
“Mrs. Appleton!” Dick gulped at his coffee and stared at his wife in some perplexity. “Isn’t she a—well, for one thing, a good deal older than you?”
“She’ll be all the better guide,” Lena retorted with one of her demure pouts. “You know she invited me to join the class she has gotten up for Swami Ram Juna. You needn’t grin in that horrid way, Dick. I shall be so wise very soon that you’ll be afraid of me.”
“Heaven forbid, you dear little inspirer of awe.”
“At any rate, she’s taken the greatest fancy to me, and I to her. She came here yesterday in the pouring rain, and we spent a long afternoon talking together. We feel the same way about everything. She says that with my beauty, I ought to make a great hit, and she’s going to give a big reception in my honor. Of course, with her experience, she can be a great help to me.”
“I see.” Dick forgot his breakfast entirely, and meditated.
“What is Mr. Appleton like?” Lena persisted.
“He has enough money to make me pale my ineffectual fires, and he adds to that the personality of the great American desert. But I suspect his wife is so wholly satisfied with the golden glow that the latter fact has never penetrated to her consciousness. I think Mrs. Appleton has not yet recovered from her astonishment at finding herself wedded to profusion. It appears to delight her afresh from day to day.”
“You can be very nasty about people when you choose.” Lena’s tone was unmistakably vexed.