"Perhaps he is jealous," said Whyte, with a subdued chuckle.
"He has no right to be jealous. If Katherine enjoys Gene's society, she has a perfect right to choose it. Not that there is anything of that sort between them! Katherine is not old enough to be Gene's mother, but she is older, and she would never allow anything of that sort to happen. Besides, if she had wanted Kenneth Clyde, she could have had him years ago."
"I wonder why she has never married," said Whyte, blowing smoke rings into the air.
"Too much sense," said Mrs. Whyte crisply. Then, quite obviously recollecting that this was not the view to present to me, she added, significantly, "When Mr. Right comes, it will be a different matter."
"She wouldn't have a word to throw to the rightest Mr. Right in the world just now," said Mr. Whyte. "She is taking Gene's trouble pretty hard. But that little Jean is a wonder! She will be a heart-wrecker all right."
"Now, Carroll, don't put any such ideas into her head. She is a mere child."
"She is Gene's twin," said Mr. Whyte, shrewdly. "If his devotion to Katherine is to be treated respectfully, you can't act as though Jean were just out of the kindergarten. I'll bet she has had a broader experience with love-affairs than Katherine has."
"You don't know anything about it," was Mrs. Whyte's crushing response, and after that the conversation became more general.
I had listened with the greatest interest, not only because of the light which the conversation threw on the character of the boy whom I wished to understand, but because of the vivid interest in Jean Benbow which my brief encounter with her had aroused. She was, as Mrs. Whyte said, merely a child, and even youthful for her years, but a sure instinct told me that she would be past mistress of the game where hearts are trumps. I was soon to prove this surmise correct! Young Garney, Gene's Latin tutor, fell a victim at sight. By chance (if there be chance, which I sometimes doubt,) that affair began in my own office--and ended where none of us would have guessed. I had asked Garney to come to my office, to see if he could tell me anything helpful about Gene, when Jean stumbled in,--or ricochetted in, rather. Jean never did anything that suggested stumbling. But that interview was too important to be dismissed in a few words. I shall have to tell it in detail, later on. But before I come to that, there was a strange event which I must record. It befell that same evening, after I left the Whytes.