"You mean," said Stephanie, coldly, "that she didn't care." And, not smiling, went on with her sewing.
"She's rather a refined type," said Helen, looking curiously at the girl who, bent over her mending, was plying her needle furiously.
Stephanie shrugged.
"Don't you think so, Steve?"
"No. I think her typically common."
"How odd! She's quite young, and she's really very nice and modest—not the type of person you seem to imagine——"
"I don't like her," interrupted Stephanie calmly. But her slender fingers were flying, and she had set her teeth in her under lip, which had trembled a little.
Helen, chancing to mention Cleland that night as they were preparing for bed, was astonished at Stephanie's impatient comment:
"Oh, Jim's quite spoiled. I'm rapidly losing interest in that young man."
"Why?" asked Helen, surprised.