“What snare? Who’d set it for his faltering steps?” laughed Polly, enjoying this romancing to the utmost.
“Why, we would, to be sure. Now look at it in a practical way, Poll. There is Mrs. Courtney: very good-looking, rich, refined, lonely, about thirty-five or thirty-eight, at most. Here is our Dalky, also handsome, rich, refined, lonely (but for us) about forty years old, and just the man to have a wonderful wife to make him happy. Is that not an ideal match?” Eleanor tossed her head wisely.
“That’s what we think! But we are not going to marry Dalky nor Mrs. Courtney. They may not agree with us, you know.”
“Polly, nothing like trying out a thing to see how it works. Now we must scheme to bring those two together and let them find out how desirable each is for the other,” suggested Eleanor.
“I think that is a good plan—bring them together and see how they seem to get along,” said Polly, musingly.
“All right, then. How shall we do it?”
“Could we not invite Mrs. Courtney to inspect some of the materials we are going to order for Dalky’s apartment? We could so plan that Dalky would be there at the same time. Then they would meet and hear that each one is the great and only friend the other has heard so much about from us?”
“Yes, that’s a fine way to get them together,” said Polly. “Now when shall it be?”
“The sooner, the better,” retorted Eleanor.
“We are going to get that book of new imported samples of damask, this week, Nolla. Why not ask Mrs. Courtney to look at them. As they are ordered for Dalky’s apartment, what more natural than he should drop in to look them over?”