“And Mrs. Dallas? What is her attitude toward the presumptuous secretary?”
“Hard to say. I think she favours him, but she is too good a financier to throw over her millionaire for his underling.”
“Well, I think I’ve had about all the local history I can stand for one night. Let’s go in the house.”
To my surprise, Lora Moore and Mrs. Merrill were in the lounge, waiting for us.
The house was admirably arranged. The great central room, with doors back and front, was called the lounge, and served as both hall and living room. Off this were two smaller rooms: the card room and the music room. To one side of these rooms were the bedrooms, and on the other side, the dining room and kitchen quarters.
The furnishings were simple and attractive, with no “Mission” pieces or attempts at camping effects.
I sat down on a wide davenport beside Lora, and said, tentatively:
“I believe you and I agree in our estimate of the Dallas beauty.”
“Then you have real good sense,” exclaimed Lora, heartily. “Kee won’t see her as I do.”
“I won’t either,” put in Maud Merrill. “It’s disgraceful to knock a woman just because she’s going to marry a rich man. Rich men want wives as well as poor men. I’m all for Katherine Dallas. You’re jealous, Lora, because she is so beautiful.”