“And then running around with Jim Langley——”
The sick little feeling in Horatia grew acute. She had heard the name rightly.
“Who’s the pernicious gentleman?” she asked lightly enough.
“Jim Langley—no one you ought to know.” Maud was quick to adopt the tone of chaperonage.
“But I should know all about him,” persisted Horatia, easily, “because he’s just given me a job.”
There was a dangerous little pause. Then Maud spoke.
“You’re joking.”
“No—truly. He promised to give me a position on The Journal. Reporting, I suppose. I went to all the newspapers this morning.”
A flush had mounted to her sister’s cheeks.
“Horatia,” she said with a tense air of lightness, “where did you get this sudden notion of going to work at all?”