"And Margaret?"
"She has suddenly gone abroad with her husband—to Munich. He's given up his business. Didn't her marriage surprise you?"
"Yes, I thought she was going to marry that Englishman who was at your wedding."
"Mr. Hollenby? Yes, every one did. Something happened. Suddenly she became engaged to this Pole,—a New York man. Very well connected, and has money, I hear. Conny wrote me about him." …
So they gossiped on. When Alice rose to leave her, Isabelle held her large cool hand in hers. The older woman, whose experience had been so unlike hers, so difficult, soothed her, gave her a suggestion of other kinds of living than her own little life.
"I'm glad you are here," she said. "Come in often, won't you?"
And her cousin, leaning over to kiss her as she might a fretful child who had much to learn, murmured, "Of course, dear. It will be all right!"
CHAPTER XII
The Steve Johnstons had had a hard time, as Isabelle would have phrased it.
He had been a faithful, somewhat dull and plodding student at the technical school, where he took the civil engineering degree, and had gone forth to lay track in Montana. He laid it well; but this job finished, there seemed no permanent place for him. He was heavy and rather tongue-tied, and made no impression on his superiors except that of commonplace efficiency. He drifted into Canada, then back to the States, and finally found a place in Detroit.