"That is not George's opinion. We wrote to him."
Sylvia laughed.
"He would believe in anybody who looked innocent and pretty."
Ethel's expression hardened; Sylvia had not been considerate.
"I don't think that's true. He's generous, and though he has made mistakes, it was only because his confidence was misled with a highly finished skill. One wouldn't look for the same ability in a girl brought up in a primitive western town."
"After all," said Sylvia tranquilly, "she is a girl, and no doubt Edgar is worth powder and shot from her point of view."
"It doesn't seem to be a commercial one," Ethel retorted. "Stephen had a very straightforward letter from this storekeeper. But I'm inclined to think I had better go on with my writing."
Sylvia moved away. She had no reason for being gracious to Ethel, and she took some pleasure in irritating her.
In a few minutes Bland came in. The hall was large, and Ethel was hidden from him in the recess. He strode toward Sylvia eagerly, but she checked him with a gesture.
"You have come back early," she said. "Wasn't the sport good? What has become of Kettering and the others?"