“What was fun?” Bess could remember so many nice things that she really didn’t know which one Nan was talking about.
“Dinner on the bank of the canal at Xochimilco,” Nan answered promptly. “I’ll never forget it. The lights. The flowers. The music. Who would ever think to look at him and hear him talk that Cousin Adair would be romantic enough to think up anything like that?”
“I know it.” Bess idly watched an insect that was buzzing around the room. “I was much surprised. Then I began to wonder if it wasn’t Walker Jamieson’s idea after all. You know he has a clever way of suggesting things to your cousin, so that when your cousin decides what to do it appears as though he thought up the idea originally.”
“Why, Bess.” Nan appeared to be horrified at the thought.
“Oh, you know it’s so.” Bess looked over at Nan. “It’s lots of fun to watch him do it. Do you know, sometimes I think that he’s almost clever enough to make Mr. MacKenzie think that the idea of his marrying Alice was his, Mr. MacKenzie’s I mean, originally. Do you suppose?”
“Bess, if you don’t stop speculating about that, I don’t know what I’m going to do to you.” Nan laughed. “You know you might spoil everything by talking about it,” she ended seriously. “For all you know the idea has never once entered Walker Jamieson’s head.”
Bess hooted at this. “Don’t you ever think that,” she said finally, “because it isn’t true and you know it isn’t.”
“Say, what are you two people doing in bed at this hour?” Laura stuck her head in the doorway and inquired. “Don’t you know that it’s long past time to get up.”
“Oh, bed’s so nice,” Nan answered, “I just hate to get up.”
“Well, all I can say is,” Laura finished before she closed the door, “the temperature downstairs is slightly chilly, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll be out of there in a jiffy.”