Cynthia admitted it. “And you too ... and Betsey.”
“Betsey’s a smart kid.” And suddenly Cynthia thought, “Why, he’s awfully in love with her,” and liked him better, even if he were as stubborn as a mule.
“Is she?” she asked aloud and ingenuously, so that Robert had to brag a little.
“She’s worked for Cochran, you know; costumes,” with quiet pride in the ability of his fiancée.
“Marvelous. She must be good. Though of course he takes lots of beginners, doesn’t he, for a short tryout?” She knew nothing of the kind, but spoke as one with inside information.
Robert flushed and set his jaw. “Not at all,” he said stiffly. “Betsey’s good enough to keep on with him, show after show. And to get work in New York too, if she wishes.”
“Really?” Cynthia’s eyebrows expressed her scepticism. “Only of course, once she’s married. ... I mean no girl can really manage two jobs, can she?”
She almost giggled at the way he took it. “I ...” his mouth hung open a minute. But stubborn people were contrary, too, and Robert was no exception. “Well, after all, I expect to keep on with architecture after I’m married.”
“Oh yes, but a man ...” Cynthia’s air was still one of polite incredulity. “Here’s Betsey now.”
Buttercup hair windblown, cheeks very pink. “But my dear, you’ve been crying again,” thought Cynthia and wondered if it wouldn’t be tactful to withdraw immediately. Betsey herself answered that.