“Yes?”
“Did she—develop—early?”
“Who—Amory? I don’t know. Did she, Katie? Of course she was quite the cleverest girl at the McGrath.”
“Ah!... What did she do at the McGrath?”
“Why, painted. You’re awfully mysterious, auntie! It was soon after she left the McGrath that she painted ‘Barrage’—you’ve heard of her feminist picture that made such a stir!”
“Ah, yes. Yes. I didn’t see it, but I did hear about it. I don’t know anything about art.—Had she any affair before she married young Pratt?”
“No. I’m sure of that. I knew her so well.” Dorothy was quite confident on that point, and Katie agreed. Lady Tasker’s questions continued.
And then, suddenly, into this apparently aimless catechism the word “doctor” came. Dorothy gave a start.
“Aunt Grace!... Do you mean Amory’s ill?” she cried.
Lady Tasker did not look up from her crochet.—“Ill?” she said. “I’ve no reason to suppose so. I didn’t say she was ill. There’s no illness about it.... By the way, I don’t think I’ve asked how Stan is.”