"Has all the far-famed Louisiana eloquence and fire, I presume?" says Lulu, curiously.
"Yes, although he has been many years away from there, but he has the hot temper and unreasoning jealousy of the extreme South, as one may see from his cruel treatment of his wife and child."
"I have just seen him," said Bruce's voice at the door.
"Seen whom?"
"Winans, to be sure, the man you're talking of," sauntering in and flinging his handsome person recliningly on the divan and looking extremely bored and fatigued in spite of the shy smile that dawned on Lulu's lip at his entrance.
"Where did you see him?" Mrs. Conway queried, in some surprise and anxiety.
"Oh, tearing down the avenue on a magnificent black horse as if he were going to destruction as fast as the steed would carry him—that is just his reckless way though."
"You recognized each other?" his aunt made haste dubiously to inquire.
"Oh, certainly," says Bruce, with a light smile. "I threw away my cigar to make him a polite bow; he returned it with a freezing salutation, but there was something in his face that would have stirred a tender heart like Brownie's here into pity for him, though stronger ones like mine, for instance, acknowledge no such sentimental feelings."
"How did he look?" queried Brownie, unmoved by his half-jesting allusion to her.