Nellie Pennington pressed her hands warmly, and they sat for a long time side by side while Jane told of all that had happened in the woods, including the sudden and unpleasant termination of her idyl. Nellie Pennington listened soberly, and learned more of the definiteness with which fate had placed the steps of these two young people upon the same pathway into the future. Love dwelt in Jane’s eyes and confidence, a trust and belief in Phil Gallatin that put Nellie Pennington’s rather assertive indorsement of him to the blush. She realized now that below Jane Loring’s placid exterior, there was a depth of feeling, a quiet strength and resolution of which she had never even dreamed; for she, too, had thought Jane a “nice little thing”—a pretty, amiable, cheerful soul without prejudices, who would add much to her own joy of life, and to the intimate circle of young people she chose to gather around her. Some of the girl’s faith found its way into her own heart and she saw Phil now, as she had always hoped to see him, taking his place among the workers of the world, using the brains God had given him, and accomplishing the great things that she knew had always been within his power to accomplish.
When Jane rose to go, Mrs. Pennington detained her a moment longer.
“How well do you know Nina Jaffray?” she asked slowly.
“Oh, we’ve always got along admirably, because we’ve never interfered with each other, I think. But I don’t understand her—nor does she me. Why do you ask?”
“Oh—I don’t know——”
“I thought you liked her, Nellie.”
“I do. I like everybody who doesn’t bore me. Nina amuses me because she keeps me in a continual state of surprise. That’s all very well so long as her surprises are pleasant ones; but when she wishes to be annoying, I assure you she can be amazingly disagreeable.”
“I imagine so. But I don’t think we’ll have differences—at least I hope——”
“Don’t be too intimate—that’s all. Understand?”
They kissed; after which Jane departed, and on the way uptown found herself wondering from time to time whether Nellie Pennington could have meant something more than Jane thought she did. But in her state of exaltation nothing could long avail to divert her spirit from its joyous flight among the enchanted realms that had been discovered to her. That afternoon late, it was only going to be very late in the afternoon she now remembered, Phil Gallatin was to walk home with her from somebody’s tea, to-morrow they were to dine at the Dorsey-Martin’s, and late in the week there was the party at the “Pot and Kettle.” After that—but what did it matter what happened after that? Each day, she knew, was to be more wonderful than the one that had gone before and it was not well to question the future too insistently. Sufficient unto the day was the good thereof, and Solomon indeed was not arrayed—inwardly at least—as Jane was.