“Do you happen to know who he is going to marry?”
“Yes, I do know, but I—I can’t tell you yet.”
“Whoever it is, it’s a mistake,” Margaret said. “It’s our little Eleanor he wants. I suppose he doesn’t realize it himself yet, and when he does it will be too late. He’s probably gone and tied himself up with somebody entirely unsuitable, hasn’t he, Beulah?”
“I don’t know,” Beulah said; “perhaps he has. I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“It’s the way to think of it, I know.” Margaret’s eyes filled with sudden tears. “But whatever he’s done it’s past mending now. There’ll be no question of Peter’s backing out of a bargain—bad or good, and our poor little kiddie’s got to suffer.” 258
“Beulah took it hard,” Gertrude commented, as they turned up-town again after dropping their friend at her door. The two girls were spending the night together at Margaret’s. “I wonder on what grounds. I think besides being devoted to Eleanor, she feels terrifically responsible for her. She isn’t quite herself again either.”
“She is almost, thanks to Peter.”
“But—oh! I can’t pretend to think of anything else,—who—who—who—are our boys going to marry?”
“I don’t know, Gertrude.”
“But you care?”