Kate nodded. "Perhaps he does not know it yet, though."
The girl said haltingly, "I have always thought that Philip was rather fond of—you, Mother."
"Of me? So he is. Philip has loved me since he was a little boy," she answered, smiling tenderly. "All the more reason for him to love my Jacqueline. We are very much alike, only that she is prettier, and younger—which counts, of course.—But now you say she wants to marry this Channing."
"I do not say that he wants to marry her."
"Jemmy!"
"Well, why should he?" asked the girl, evenly. "It would not be a good match for Mr. Channing. His family are conservative Boston people. Can you imagine Jacky among conservative Boston people? Sliding down banisters, riding bareback, making eyes at all the men—"
"That is not what you mean," said her mother, rather white about the lips. "You mean the scandal about me. Yes, that would make a difference.—You think it is only a flirtation, then?"
"On his part, yes. On Jacqueline's—I don't know. But even flirtation is not very safe for Jacqueline. Remember her inheritance." Jemima met her mother's wincing eyes firmly.
"What do you mean?" gasped the older woman.
"I mean—that Jacqueline is oversexed." She had no intention of seeing her little sister come to grief for lack of frankness. "I know it, and you know it, and we both know that it is not her fault." She added after a moment, "I have reason to believe that Mr. Channing is not a marrying man. There was talk in Lexington—If I were you I should write to Professor Jim and ask him."