"They've been waiting for a good many years," commented Hetty, without emotion. "Of course, Mrs. Wrandall, you understand that I am not one of those who will profit by his death. The estate is entailed. I am quite outside the walls."
"I did not know the—ah—"
"My father may come in for a small interest. He is in England at present on furlough. But there are a great many near relatives to be fed before the bowl of plenty gets to him."
"Dear, dear!" murmured Mrs. Wrandall, quite appalled by her way of putting it. Leslie looked at her and coughed. "What a delicious dressing you have for these alligator pears, Sara," she went on, veering quickly. "You must tell me how it is made."
After luncheon, Leslie drew Sara aside.
"I must say she doesn't seem especially overjoyed to see me," he growled. "She's as cool as ice."
"What do you expect, Leslie?" she demanded with some asperity.
"I can't stand this much longer, Sara," he said. "Don't you see how things are going? She's losing her heart to Booth."
"I don't see how we can prevent it."
"By gad, I'll have another try at it—to-night. I say, has she said—anything?"