“You do?”
“Yes, I 'ain't a doubt of it.”
“He did act as if he couldn't take his eyes off her at the exhibition,” agreed Mrs. Zelotes, reflectively; “mebbe you're right.”
“I know I'm right just as well as if I'd seen it.”
“Well, mebbe you are. What does Andrew say?”
“Oh, he wishes he was the one to do it.”
“Of course he does—he's a Brewster,” said his mother.
“But he's got sense enough to be pleased that Ellen has got the chance.”
“He ain't any more pleased than I be at anything that's a good chance for Ellen,” said the grandmother; but all the same, after Fanny had gone, her joy had a sharp sting for her. She was not one who could take a gift to heart without feeling its sharp edge.
Had Ellen's sentiment been analyzed, she felt in something the same way that her grandmother did. However, she had begun to dream definitely about Robert, and the reflection had come, too, that this might make her more his equal, as nearly his equal as Maud Hemingway.