“Because,” said John, “Rose Ferguson is such a splendid girl; she is so strong, and so generous, and so perfectly true and reliable,—it would be the joy of my heart if Lillie would choose her for a friend.”
“Then, pray don’t tell her so,” said Grace, earnestly; “and don’t praise her to Lillie,—and, above all things, never hold her up as a pattern, unless you want your wife to hate her.”
John opened his eyes very wide.
“So!” said he, slowly, “I never thought of that. You think she would be jealous?” and John smiled, as men do at the idea that their wives may be jealous, not disliking it on the whole.
“I know I shouldn’t be in much charity with a woman my husband proposed to me as a model; that is to say, supposing I had one,” said Grace.
“That reminds me,” said John, suddenly rising up from the sofa. “Do you know, Gracie, that Colonel Sydenham has come back from his cruise?”
“I had heard of it,” said Grace, quietly. “Now, John, don’t interrupt me. I’m just going to turn this corner, and must count,—‘one, two, three, four, five, six,’”—
John looked at his sister. “How handsome she looks when her cheeks have that color!” he thought. “I wonder if there ever was any thing in that affair between them.”