“She is a pretty little thing, and good tempered, I think,” said Mr Snow, smiling. “I shouldn’t wonder if our folks made something of her, after all. She is in better keeping than she used to be, I guess.”
“She used to be—well, a little of a flirt, and I don’t believe she has forgot all about it yet,” said Mr Green, nodding in the direction of Captain Starr, with a knowing look. The possibility of a married woman’s amusing herself in that way was not among the subjects to which Mr Snow had given his attention, so he had nothing to say in reply.
“And the other one—she understands a little of it, too, I guess.”
“What, Rosie? She is a child. Graeme will teach her better than that. She despises such things,” said Mr Snow, warmly.
“She don’t flirt any herself, does she?” asked Mr Green, coolly. “Miss Elliott, I mean.”
Mr Snow turned on him astonished eyes. “I don’t know as I understand what you mean by flirting. I always supposed it was something wrong, or, at least, something unbecoming in any woman, married or single. Graeme ain’t one of that sort.”
Mr Green shrugged his shoulders incredulously. “Oh! as to its being wrong, and so forth, I don’t know. They all do it, I guess, in one way or other. I don’t suppose Miss Graeme would go it so strong as that little woman, but I guess she knows how.”
The voice of Rose prevented Mr Snow’s indignant reply.
“But, Arthur, you are not a disinterested judge. Of course you would admire Fanny’s most, and as for Captain Starr, he is—”
“He is like the ass between two bundles of hay.”