"I suppose," she went on scornfully, "that she wanted to be petted. I wasn't going to pet her."
"I think I should have petted her. She'd be nice to pet," Alice remarked thoughtfully.
Irene seemed to lose patience.
"You don't mean to say that you and she are going to make friends?" she exclaimed. "It would be too absurd."
"Why shouldn't we? I liked her rather; at least I think so."
"I wish to goodness that husband of hers would come back and look after her. What's more, I said so to her; but she only went on crying more and more."
"You don't seem to have been very pleasant," Alice observed.
"I suppose I wasn't," Irene admitted, half in remorse. "But that sort of person does annoy me so. As I was saying to Frank, you never know where to have them. Oh, but Ora doesn't mind it from me."
"Then why did she cry more and more?"
"I don't know—unless it was because I reminded her of Mr. Fenning's existence. I think it's a good thing to do sometimes."