“Playing with your hair? I know you love to have me do it so you need not put on such a martyred air.”
“Go on with your confession, you goose!”
“Well, I told Mr. Renshawe he might come to call on us. You see he asked if we would let Mrs. Lennox bring him and he was so nice I couldn’t refuse.”
An amused smile crept into Julie’s eyes. “I thought we had nothing in common with men whatever—that they did not fit into the present scheme of things—that we had no use for them in the life we live! Wasn’t it some such explosive theory you expounded to me ages ago?” she asked teasingly.
“It is true, you know it is,” pulling Julie’s curls to emphasize her words, “but I did it for Nannie’s sake. I know he is just dying to come here and talk about her.”
“You mean you are just dying to have him! So am I, for the matter of that. Won’t it be nice to hear all about them?”
“Do you know something?” said Hester who had a trick of beginning a speech with a question, “I believe he is in love with her!”
“What gave you that idea, you precocious infant?”
“Oh! nothing special, only the way he looked when her name was mentioned and his wanting to come here to talk about her—there is no other possible reason why he should want to come—and he got the ring in her cake you know. Wouldn’t it be romantic if she married him?”
“Hester Dale! The way you allow your imagination to run riot is something perfectly fearful! You put one and one together and make a thousand things! I never saw such a girl!”