"Oh, Jaqueline! I wish I had your—"
"Spunk!" Jaqueline exclaimed with a laugh, while Marian was considering.
"You see, no one really governs you. Your father is so indulgent."
"Oh, I don't have quite everything my own way, I assure you! But what have you done in this matter?"
"Why, Mr. Greaves has explained to father and mother. Of course he will not say anything to me until the year is up. He is very punctilious, and I am so glad he believes in the year. He comes over and we have a game of whist, which I hate, and get out of when there is other company. But father expects me to stay in the room. Occasionally he questions me about something—household affairs generally. Mrs. Greaves was an excellent housekeeper—much superior to his sister, he thinks."
"Oh, Marian! I should die if I had to marry such a man. Come, let us go down to the girls and forget all about him. Cassy will put away your things."
Marian lingered.
"Well—what else?" impatiently. "You don't really want to tell me that you have a fancy for this wretched old fellow?"
"Oh, no, no! But, Jaqueline—of course I did not know Mr. Ralston would be here, yet I had a sort of presentiment that you had planned something. And is it quite fair, do you think? I mean honest to—to enjoy it all? I am afraid he likes me."
"I am quite sure he does. But I wasn't sure of his coming. Louis met him at Jane's, and likes him immensely. There are other girls here—it isn't at all as if you were the only guest. Don't worry, but let matters take their course. Come and see the lace-making."