"Twenty-two—twenty-three—something like that."
"It doesn't sound much of a life for a young girl, Aunt Sanna. Imagine the Barbary-flower!" Doctor Studdiford shook his thermometer, looked at it, and screwed it into its case.
"How is Barbara?" Miss Toland asked dryly.
"Fine! Mother came to me with a long tale, the other day, about her being run down, or blue, or something, but I don't see it. She has a dandy time."
"Why doesn't she marry? Barbara must be twenty-six," her aunt said, with directness.
"Oh, I don't know; why don't all the girls? The fellows they run with are an awfully bum lot," Jim said contentedly. "Look at me! Why don't I?" he added, laughing.
"Well, why don't you?"
"I'm waiting to settle the others off, I guess. Besides, you know, I've been working like the devil! Sally's been worrying Mother with her affairs lately," said Jim.
"Sally—and who?"
"Keith Borroughs!" Jim announced, grinning.