"And that you were simply beautiful. He said that he never remembered to have seen a more beautiful woman."
Laura turned her head away, a hand shielding her cheek. She did not answer immediately, then at length:
"Has he—this Mr. Jadwin—has he ever been married before?"
"No, no. He's a bachelor, and rich! He could buy and sell us. And don't think, Laura dear, that I'm jumping at conclusions. I hope I'm woman of the world enough to know that a man who's taken with a pretty face and smart talk isn't going to rush right into matrimony because of that. It wasn't so much what Curtis Jadwin said—though, dear me suz, he talked enough about you—as what he didn't say. I could tell. He was thinking hard. He was hit, Laura. I know he was. And Charlie said he spoke about you again this morning at breakfast. Charlie makes me tired sometimes," she added irrelevantly.
"Charlie?" repeated Laura.
"Well, of course I spoke to him about Jadwin, and how taken he seemed with you, and the man roared at me."
"He didn't believe it, then."
"Yes he did—when I could get him to talk seriously about it, and when I made him remember how Mr. Jadwin had spoken in the carriage coming home."
Laura curled her leg under her and sat nursing her foot and looking into the fire. For a long time neither spoke. A little clock of brass and black marble began to chime, very prettily, the half hour of nine. Mrs. Cressler observed:
"That Sheldon Corthell seems to be a very agreeable kind of a young man, doesn't he?"