"O, but, Suzanne, Marianna and Donald are such dears!" pleaded Barb.
"Of course they are dears. They are adorable. But you can't deny they have kept her back. She is just beginning to be a real sculptor after all these years. And now she is beginning appears this Kinnard person to spoil it all."
Sylvia looked up a trifle startled.
"What do you mean, Suzanne? Mr. Kinnard isn't spoiling anything. He is helping. Felicia hasn't a bit of faith in herself. She never would have thought of entering into that mural relief competition if he hadn't made her. And I know her designs are going to be splendid. Mr. Kinnard says they are, and he knows."
Suzanne shrugged.
"I fear the Greeks bearing gifts. No man ever gave a woman something for nothing since time began. You'll see."
"What shall I see?"
"You might have seen the way he looked at your Felicia yesterday afternoon. You needn't stare. She is the loveliest thing imaginable; and, anyway, widows always marry again. They can't seem to help it. It is in the system."
"Oh, he looks at every woman. How can he help it with eyes like that? He is much more likely to be wooing Hope. He has been sketching her all summer and she makes lovely shy dryad eyes at him while he works. I don't see how he can resist her myself, she is so deliciously pretty."
"'A violet by a mossy stone.' Mr. Kinnard isn't looking for violets. You'll see, as I said before."