She rose and peered into his face searchingly, laying her hands on his shoulders.
“Wayne, I believe you know that woman! Play fair with me about this; have you ever seen her? Have you ever heard of her before?”
“Fanny, how absurd you are! You asked me that question before and I answered no. Do you imagine I have seen her to-day? Come now, please be the reasonable little sister you always have been. You are the brightest, cleverest, dearest girl in the world. That gown is a dream, if you ask me; you should be painted by Alexander for the family portrait gallery. Dick Wingfield suggested to father to-day his own duty in the matter and I see the finished product—father full-length in a frock coat, with his hand resting lightly on a volume of his own speeches.”
Mrs. Blair’s eyes filled with tears.
“Poor mama!” she mourned. “I’m glad her portrait was painted just when it was—the picture is so dear. I’m going to get it out of the house before that creature comes if it’s the last thing I do.”
“Please, Fanny, don’t do that,” he pleaded, touched in his own heart more than he wished her to know. “Come, now, cheer up, for I must trot if I get home for dinner. I promised father to be there; it’s close upon our last tête-à-tête. Count on me for all your functions. I’ll get Wingfield to support me at the teas and so on. If you want me to come to your antiquarians’ dinner I shall be here and you may place me next the solemnest dowager you invite to the banquet. You needn’t go on a cold-water basis for the occasion either; my glasses shall be turned down; remember that!”
“I’m glad, oh, so glad, Wayne! I can’t tell you what that means to me.”
She stood in the doorway and watched him slip into his topcoat. He moved with the athlete’s ease; there was a real grace in him. He had never been so dear to her sisterly heart as now, in the light of this new event before which they waited. For sister-love goes far and deep. Like charity, it suffereth long and is kind. In self-effacement and service it is happiest; and it knows the pangs of neglect and jealousy. Fanny’s eyes were upon Wayne in love and admiration as she watched him fasten his coat and draw on his gloves.
“By the way, Fanny, that was a stunning girl you had in there when I came. I caught a glimpse of her against those dark red curtains—a very pleasing portrait if I’m asked!”
“She has known trouble, poor child; I’m doing what I can to help her.”