"What's he like?" asked Henry.
"Just a dressed-up puppy!" Mary tossed her head. "But, maybe, I'm not fair to him. When two girls have lived together and like one another one of them isn't in all probability going to be very devoted to the man who carries the other one off."
"No, I suppose not," Henry nodded his head with deep profundity.
"And then I despise men," Mary added, tossing her head. "You're a poor lot—all except your friend Westcott. I like him."
"I didn't know you knew him," said Henry.
"Oh yes, he's been here several times. Now if it were he who was going to carry Millie off! You know he's deeply in love with her!"
"He! Peter?" Henry cried horrified.
"Yes, of course. Do you mean to say you didn't see it?"
"But he can't—he's married already!"
"Mr. Westcott married?' Mary Cass repeated after him.