“I do not know of any reason why I should. I know very little in its favour.”
“Opinions differ so much!” exclaimed the young girl, gaining courage gradually. “I suppose you and I have not at all the same ideas about it.”
“Evidently not.”
“How would you define friendship?”
“I never define things. It is my business to describe people, facts and events. Bond is a lawyer and a man of concise definitions. Ask him.”
“I prefer to talk to you,” said Constance, who had by this time overcome her sensitive timidity and began to think that she could revive something of the old confidence in conversation. Unfortunately for her intentions, Mamie had either overheard the last words, or did not like the way things were going. She rose and pushed her light straw chair before her with her foot until it was opposite the two.
“What do you do with yourself all day long?” she asked as she sat down. “I am sure you are giving my cousin the most delightful accounts of your existence!”
“As a matter of fact, we were talking of friendship,” said George, watching the outlines of Mamie’s exquisite figure and mentally comparing them with Constance’s less striking advantages.
“How charming!” Mamie exclaimed sweetly. “And you have always been such good friends.”
With a wicked intuition of the mischief she was making, Mamie paused and looked from the one to the other. Constance very nearly lost her temper, but George’s dark face betrayed no emotion.