“But I don’t like to have her flirt at all, Mr. Smith.”
“It isn’t flirting. It’s just her bottled-up childhood and youth bubbling over. She can’t help bubbling, she’s been repressed so long. She’ll come out all right, and she won’t come out hand in hand with Hibbard Gaylord. You see if she does.”
Miss Maggie shook her head and sighed. “You don’t know Jane. Jane will never give up. She’ll be quiet, but she’ll be firm. With one hand she’ll keep Gray away, and with the other she’ll push Gaylord forward. Even Mellicent herself won’t know how it’s done. But it’ll be done, and I tremble for the consequences.”
“Hm-m!” Mr. Smith’s eyes had lost their twinkle now. To himself he muttered: “I wonder if maybe—I hadn’t better take a hand in this thing myself.”
“You said—I didn’t understand what you said,” murmured Miss Maggie doubtfully.
“Nothing—nothing, Miss Maggie,” replied the man. Then, with businesslike alertness, he lifted his chin. “How long do you say this has been going on?”
“Why, especially since they all came home two weeks ago. Jane knew nothing of Donald Gray till then.”
“Where does Carl Pennock come in?”
Miss Maggie gave a gesture of despair.
“Oh, he comes in anywhere that he can find a chance; though, to do her justice, Mellicent doesn’t give him—many chances.”