"I shall not do anything of the sort." Olive took off the hat and laid it in its box. "I don't know what in the world has got into you and Murray; you 're both perfectly mad over the Bells. If you 're so charmed with that girl you can go and call on her, I suppose."
She recalled with some surprise her own liking for Jane, wondering, now that her brother showed his prepossessions so strongly, how she could have fancied her. It seemed sometimes to be a matter of principle with Olive never to like the people whom Forrest or Murray liked.
"See here," said Forrest, frowning, "I think it's pretty ill-natured of you not to invite one or two persons I ask you to, whether you happen to want them or not. This party may be your birthday affair, but there 's no reason why somebody else should n't have a hand in the inviting. Let's see your list, will you?"
Olive unwillingly handed him a sheet of paper, upon which the names of her prospective guests were written. He scanned it sharply.
"Same old crowd," he observed, his handsome brows knit into a scowl. "I should think you 'd want a little fresh blood, to liven things up."
"For you to sit in a corner with, you mean."
"Will you do it to please me?"
"No!" Olive snatched the list out of his hand and returned it to a box, which she laid in a drawer of her desk.
Forrest stood looking at her for a moment, then, without a further word, shrugged his shoulders and walked out of the room.
Two hours later he came quietly back. Olive had gone out, as he knew. He crossed the room to the desk, searched and found the box into which he had seen the list put, and discovered, as he had expected, the invitations to the birthday party folded and partially addressed. He knew that they were to go out upon the morrow, and that Olive doubtless would finish the task of addressing them that evening. He had heard her bewailing the fact that this labour consumed so much time, but he had not cared to offer to assist her.