"At least my older brother——"
"Yes, of course, but you would never take him for a man of forty-eight. I like the touch of gray in his hair. It means dignity, strength, experience. I've always hated sap-headed youngsters."
"Say, Elena, for heaven's sake, who are you in love with anyhow—with me or the Governor?"
A smile flickered around the corners of the girl's eyes and mouth before she slowly answered:
"I sometimes think I really love you both, Norman—but there are times when I have doubts about you."
"Thanks. I suppose I must be duly grateful for small favours, or else resign myself to call you 'Mother.'"
"Would such a fate be intolerable?"
Elena drew her magnificent figure to its full height and looked into the young athlete's face with laughing audacity.
"By George, Elena, if I'm honest with you, I'd have to say no. You are tall, stately, dignified, beautiful from the crown of your black hair to the tip of your dainty toe—the most stunning-looking woman I ever saw. I never think of you as a girl just out of school. You always remind me of a glorious royal figure in some old romance of the Middle Ages——"
"Now I'm sure I love you, Norman—for the moment at least."