"Aren't men dreadful! And he is so nice in many ways. . . . Lorna——" Etta was weeping again. "I can't go—I can't. I mustn't leave you."
"Don't be absurd. You've simply got to do it."
"And I do love him," said Etta, calmed again by Susan's calmness. "And if he married me—Oh, how grateful I'd be!"
"I should say!" exclaimed Susan. She kissed Etta and petted her.
"And he'll have a mighty good wife."
"Do you think I can marry him?"
"If you love him—and don't worry about catching him."
Etta shook her head in rejection of this piece of idealistic advice.
"But a girl's got to be shrewd. You ought to be more so, Lorna."
"That depends on what a girl wants," said Susan, absently. "Upon what she wants," she repeated.
"What do you want?" inquired Etta curiously.
"I don't know," Susan answered slowly.