“Do you think you can make me inquisitive, Mr. Butterfield? I know all about that. Why, I made Loring tell me every——”
It was my turn to laugh.
“Then there is nothing more to say,” I answered. “Loring is my friend—he has claims upon me. He has, doubtless, given himself quite away, and half his bachelor friends into the bargain. I think I see him doing it. Isn’t that a pretty gown Carrie is wearing? I chose it for her.”
“Loring told me a great deal,” said Mrs. Chatterton musingly.
“The buttons are from her grandmother’s wedding-gown.”
“And he was so clumsy and boyish,” she continued.
Words were superfluous. I smiled.
“Anyway,” Mrs. Loring went on, “I don’t think it fair. Men have half a dozen flirtations before they are married their wives know nothing about.”
“And women, Mrs. Chatterton?” I asked.
“Some women, Mr. Butterfield, may not be scrupulous. But——”