"So is Cousin Rose. In fact, no one could be more so," he answered, with evident approval.
"Is she going to play your accompaniments for you, when you begin the season?"
A shadow crossed his face. "I'm afraid not. I wish she could."
"Why can't she?"
"On account of Madame Grundy. It wouldn't be proper."
"I don't see why," objected Isabel, daringly. "She's ten years older than you are."
Allison bit his lips and the expression of his face subtly changed. "You're ten years younger," he replied, coldly, "and I couldn't take you. That doesn't make any difference."
Seeing that she had made a mistake, Isabel sat quietly in her chair and watched the people around her until it was time to go. Greatly to her delight, they went to the station in an automobile.
"Isn't this glorious!" she cried. "I'm so glad the Crosbys are going to have one. I hope they'll take me often."
With the sure instinct of Primitive Woman, she had said the one thing calculated to make Allison forget his momentary change of mood.