“Perfectly, Mr. Bryce. She's the first lady I've ever met. She's different.”
“No doubt! Her kind are not a product of homely little communities like Sequoia. And for that matter, neither is her wolf of an uncle. What did Miss Sumner have to say to you, Moira?”
“She told me all about herself—and she said a lot of nice things about you, Mr. Bryce, after I told her I worked for you. And when I showed her the way home, she insisted that I should walk home with her. So I did—and the butler served us with tea and toast and marmalade. Then she showed me all her wonderful things—and gave me some of them. Oh, Mr. Bryce, she's so sweet. She had her maid dress my hair in half a dozen different styles until they could decide on the right style, and—”
“And that's it—eh, Moira?”
She nodded brightly.
“I can see that you and Miss Sumner evidently hit it off just right with each other. Are you going to call on her again?”
“Oh, yes! She begged me to. She says she's lonesome.”
“I dare say she is, Moira. Well, her choice of a pal is a tribute to the brains I suspected her of possessing, and I'm glad you've gotten to know each other. I've no doubt you find life a little lonely sometimes.”
“Sometimes, Mr. Bryce.”
“How's my father?”