It occurred to her that Miss Reynolds was entitled to know something of her history and she recited the facts of her life simply and straightforwardly. She had only said that her father had been unfortunate without explaining his connection with Cummings-Durland. Miss Reynolds smoked and sipped her coffee in silence; then asked in her quick fashion:
“Cummings-Durland? Those names tinkle together away back in my memory.”
“Father and Mr. Cummings came here from Rangerton and began business together. The Cummingses used to live neighbors to us over by Military Park.”
“Bob Cummings is one of my neighbors,” said Miss Reynolds. “Rather tragic—putting that young man into business. He hates it. There ought to be some way of protecting artistic young men from fathers who try to fit square pegs into round holes. I suppose the business troubles broke up the friendship of your families.”
“Yes; my mother and sister are very bitter about it; they think father was unfairly treated. But I met Bob only this morning and he was very friendly. He seemed terribly cut up because I’d left college.”
“He’s a sensitive fellow; he would feel it,” said Miss Reynolds. “So you children grew up together—the Durlands and the Cummings. I’m asking about your present relations because Bob comes in occasionally to play my piano—when there’s something on at his own house that he doesn’t like. His wife’s the sort that just can’t be quiet; must have people around. She’s crazy about bridge and he isn’t! He called me on the telephone just before you came to ask if he might come over after dinner, as his wife’s having people in for bridge. I told him to come along. I enjoy his playing; he really plays very well indeed. You don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” said Grace, wondering at the fate that was throwing her in Bob Cummings’ way twice in one day and a day in which she had been torn with so many conflicting emotions.
“If you have the slightest feeling about meeting him do say so; you may always be perfectly frank with me.”
“Yes; thank you, Miss Reynolds. But I’d love to hear Bob play.”
When they were again in the living room Grace stood for a moment scanning a table covered with periodicals and new books.