“I thought I’d marry Phil Gallatin,” she said quietly.
Mrs. Pennington laid her embroidery frame down and looked up quickly. Nina Jaffray’s long legs were extended toward the blaze, but her head was lowered and her eyes gazed steadily before her. It was easily to be seen that she was quite serious—more serious than Mrs. Pennington liked.
“Phil Gallatin! Oh, Nina, you can’t mean it?”
“I do. There isn’t a man in New York I’d rather marry than Phil.”
“Does he know it?”
“No. But I mean that he shall.”
“Don’t be foolish. You two would end in the ditch in no time.”
Nina straightened and examined her hostess calmly.
“Do you think so?” she asked at last.
“Yes, I think so——” Nellie Pennington paused, and whatever it was that she had in mind to say remained unspoken. Instinct had already warned her that Nina was the kind of girl who is only encouraged by obstacles, and it was not her duty to impose them.