“Oh yes, I know—I know; you’re too wonderful!”
Mrs. Brookenham, in a brief pause, completed her covert consciousness. “They’re doing beautifully—he’s taking Cashmore with a seriousness!”
“And with what is Cashmore taking him?”
“With the hope that from one moment to another Nanda may come in.”
“But how on earth does that concern him?”
“Through an extraordinary fancy he has suddenly taken to her.” Mrs. Brook had been swift to master the facts. “He has been meeting her at Tishy’s, and she has talked to him so effectually about his behaviour that she has quite made him cease to care for Carrie. He prefers HER now—and of course she’s much nicer.”
Vanderbank’s attention, it was clear, had now been fully seized. “She’s much nicer. Rather! What you mean is,” he asked the next moment, “that Nanda, this afternoon, has been the object of his call?”
“Yes—really; though he tried to keep it from me. She makes him feel,” she went on, “so innocent and good.”
Her companion for a moment said nothing; but then at last: “And WILL she come in?”
“I haven’t the least idea.”