“Who is it?” said June in a low voice. “What a curious looking woman!”
The Colonel, who had been surveying the new-comers, looked at his companion with eyes in which there was a slight veiled coldness. The same quality was noticeable in his voice:
“Her name’s Newbury, Mrs. William Newbury. Her husband’s a banker here.”
“Is that her husband with her, that little man?”
“Yes.”
“But he’s so old! He looks like her father. What did she marry him for?”
“I don’t know. I’m not her father-confessor. He’s got a good deal of money, I believe.”
The Colonel did not seem interested in the subject. He picked up June’s fan and said,
“How did you like the young fellow who had this chair just now, Stanley Davenport? He’s the last unmarried child my old friend has left.”
The girl’s eyes, however, had followed the new-comers with avid, staring curiosity, and she said,