Mrs. Porter looked out through the open window toward the end of the porch, where a hammock hung.
"The doctor says Colorado," she replied.
"Doctor? Is it as bad as that?" Miss Barry frowned questioningly. "Lambert never writes. I don't care for his stenographer's letters, and he knows it. If he can't take time to write himself, let it go." The speaker threw her head to one side, as if disposing of the matter of fraternal affection.
"Linda is blooming," remarked Mrs. Porter.
Miss Barry's lips took a thinner line. "Let her bloom," she responded dryly; and her visitor laughed again.
"Doesn't she write either?"
"I should say not."
"It will be less difficult now she's out of college," said Mrs. Porter pacifically. "Those girls are absolutely occupied, you know."
"Never play at all, I presume," returned her hostess, with a curling lip.
"Oh, I wouldn't say that."