“No; I heard it. I was in the sitting-room window.”
“Well, what of it? Are you mad about that, Emmie?” in astonishment.
“No, I’m glad,” Emmie burst out, longing to punish the pretty, careless thing. “You don’t think I’d want my brother Tom to marry a girl so poor that she hadn’t any name nor any relations, but just seems to have ‘growed’ sort of like Topsy! No, indeed! I hope and pray my brothers may marry their equals in life.”
Thea stood like a statue. Never before in her bright, careless life had any reproach been flung at her for her misfortunes. She had held herself as high as these Hintons with whom she had been raised. She had never dreamed that she was not the equal of any one. Emmie’s barbed thrust pierced deep.
She stood still, facing angry, jealous Emmie, the sweet, gay smile fading like magic from the rosy lips, the rose-leaf bloom from the dimpled cheeks, the sparkle from the deep-blue eyes. Not a word came from her. She was catching her breath hard as if some one had struck her a blow.
Suddenly, while Emmie stared at her, angry still, yet half ashamed of her ignoble outburst, the girl turned swiftly and rushed from the room. She flew down-stairs to the parlor, and Emmie followed her as far as the hall.
CHAPTER XXVI.
Frank Hinton was walking up and down the pretty cottage parlor, all ready for the dancing-party. He was a handsome young fellow, not small and fair like his older brother, but tall and broad-shouldered, with brown eyes and hair like Emmie, and a pretty silky mustache outlining his upper lip. Frank was studying medicine, and expected soon to add M. D. to his name.
As he walked up and down the small parlor’s length with his hands under his coat-tails, Frank was indulging, like Hamlet, in a soliloquy:
“Deuce take it! I wonder if Maude feels cut up over this? I’m afraid I certainly gave her cause to think I was serious in that quarter. Well, I was, too, or thought I was. But Thea wasn’t grown then. The minute I saw her when she got back from school, I knew it was all up with Maude. Dear Little Sweetheart! I almost think it was mutual, too. How plainly she shows her preference for me. And how furious it makes Tom. He’s dead gone on her, I know, but it’s no use. He can have Maude if he likes. Sweetheart’s mine, and I haven’t made myself a calf over her like Tom and some other fellows either. I— What’s that?”