“Just as your sister or mother would be, I fancy.”
“Sisterly! Motherly!” laughed Bombs. “That’s infinitely correct, just now, but in two or four years from now wifely will be the proper word, and you will feel very different.”
“I’m sure four years or a thousand will not make any difference in my feelings about—”
“About what or who?” insisted Bombs.
“About you,” she added promptly.
He was looking at her with a brazen sort of fixedness that would have made almost any mature woman blush. He wanted to make her blush and he expected she would, but he was disappointed. She looked straight at him and was as placid as the traditional moonbeam.
CHAPTER XIX.
SCHWARMER DOES A LITTLE HUSTLING ON ADELAIDE’S ACCOUNT—A FOURTH OF JULY BUGLE.