Jenny nodded. "You understand it, I see. Men would feel that way, would they?"
"Rather!" I answered, with a laugh. Jenny was leaning her head on her elbow, and looked across the table at me with a satisfied mocking smile. I could see that I had given an answer that pleased her—but she was not minded to tell me why she was pleased.
Half chaffing her, half really wondering what she would be at, I asked, "Do you want Oxley Lodge for Margaret?"
"For her?" exclaimed Jenny, smiling still. "Why? Isn't this house big enough for the mite?"
"Suppose you both marry—or either? You're both eminently marriageable young women."
"Are we? Eminently marriageable? Well, I suppose so." She laughed. "Even if one doesn't marry, it's something to be marriageable, isn't it?"
"A most valuable asset," said I. "Then you'd want two houses."
"I suppose we should. But how far you look ahead, Austin!"
"If that isn't Satan reproving sin—!" I cried.
"What do you suspect me of now?" she asked, still mocking, but genuinely curious, I think, to fathom my thoughts.