Nellie looked at him quickly. She had not phrased the notion quite so clearly to herself, and yet it had been there. Bob had never mentioned Louisa Overton’s name, and yet his cousin could not be ignorant that he was at the Overtons’ house almost every day. She glanced at James. Would any one turn to James in a crisis? She thought all this before she became aware that he was saying:
“I think we shall have to inquire into this a little more. There is something behind these constant visits to the Overtons’, if I am not very much mistaken. Why a clever man like Balby Overton allows it, is more than I can see. Is it possible that Miss Louisa can have taken a fancy to him? Is it possible that any decent girl could take a fancy to him?”
There was a long pause. Perhaps Nellie was not listening, for he had to repeat his question before he got an answer.
“Very possible, I should think.”
The answer did not please Emmons.
“Well, not so very possible,” he said contemptuously. “I am afraid the kind of man he is sticks out plainly enough. Inexperienced as she is, I fancy she can see his game—an heiress and so young. I should feel responsible if anything happened, unless I had said a word to Overton. Oh, yes, I know. You suppose that he knows all about Bob’s record, but in a case as serious as this we have no right to suppose. It is somebody’s duty to speak plainly, and if you won’t do it, why, I will.”
“I am the person to do it, if it must be done,” said Nellie.
“I am not so sure of that. There are very pertinent little incidents in your cousin’s past which I hope you don’t know, but which you certainly could not repeat.”
“I know quite enough, I’m afraid,” she answered, with a sigh.
“Oh, well, don’t sigh over it,” said Emmons. “If you feel so badly about it, I’ll go myself.”