"Mr. King called this morning, and brought more flowers for Linda. If flowers would heal hearts Linda would never shed another tear, but she can't seem to bear them. She won't let one blossom be in the room."
"I suppose they look too cheerful," said Harriet. "How is poor Bertram?"
"Thin as a rail. Looks as if he had the weight of the nation on him, and I suppose he has. I guess from what I hear these days are terribly hard on him."
"Terribly," echoed Harriet. "Henry's just heart-broken over the situation."
"Has Henry lost money in Barry & Co.? Don't tell me if you don't want to."
"No. Of course Henry's young, and has never had much money to invest, but Father never wanted family connections mixed up in his business. I know that sounds as if he didn't feel certain of his propositions; but there isn't a man who knew Father and Barry & Co. who wouldn't tell you he believed in their absolutely honest intention. I've had only one talk with Bertram about the business since—but he called me up this noon and said he must see Linda and me together as soon as she is able."
Miss Barry dropped her work again, and regarded her niece's dark head, drooped over her work.
"You like Bertram King, don't you?"
"Indeed I do." Harriet looked up in surprise. "Henry and I both love him like a brother."
"Well, I just wanted to know if you felt him worthy of all confidence."