“So we drifted down to southern California, Sylvia in mourning, of course, and not taking any interest in anything, and Tom worse. But when we got to La Crescenta suddenly we all felt better. Tom began to eat and sleep; Sylvia and I took long walks; we even went in to Los Angeles to concerts.
“And in no time she found that she could still be—superior, with Tom. He began to admire her tremendously—he thought she knew everything! But never in my life have I seen Sylvia so—well, so gentle with anybody as she was with Tom! She began to make much of what he knew—regularly draw him out; he speaks very good Spanish you know, and you can use Spanish a good deal there. Sylvia talked to him about boats, navigation, places he had been and we hadn’t, and all the time”—and Gabrielle’s eyes danced—“all the time it was just as if she was afraid of breaking the spell she had put on herself—if you know what I mean, David?”
“I think I do.”
“Meanwhile,” the girl resumed, with keen enjoyment, “Tom was changing, too. He’s gotten—finer, in a funny sort of way. His voice has grown finer, and he—he just stares at Sylvia whatever she does, and smiles at whatever she says, and he is like a lion on a string!”
Her joyous laugh was infectious, and David laughed in spite of himself.
“About—this is April. About Christmas time,” Gay resumed, “I began to notice it. Tom was funny and humble and quiet with Sylvia, and Sylvia was bent upon making much of Tom; she’d quote him—I don’t know whether I can convey this to you—but she’d say to me so seriously, ‘Tom says the rain isn’t over. Tom doesn’t like Doctor Madison; he thinks his manner with us is a little too assured’, that sort of thing,” Gabrielle explained, frowning faintly despite her smile, in her eagerness to make him understand her.
“Well, we went to San Francisco, and there I really did have the best time I ever had in my life!” Gabrielle said. “The Montallen girls were there, with their brother, and we had some wonderful parties—we went through Chinatown, and out to the beach, and up the mountain, and everywhere. And I suppose I hadn’t been noticing Sylvia very closely, because, after the Montallens left——”
“Oh, they left, did they?” David, interested in the brother, asked.
“Yes, they came straight home. It’s the Montallens,” Gabrielle said, parenthetically, “that want me to go abroad with them in June.”
“I see. Will the brother go?”