“Is she not lovely?� questioned Mrs. Wylie triumphantly.
“She has rather fine features,� returned the gentleman, absently twirling the curtain about his fingers. “I fancy I have seen her before somewhere, but I cannot now remember where.� He wrinkled his brow thoughtfully. “I do not associate that face in my memory, however, with black robes or the character of sewing woman in Forest City.�
“I knew you would be interested if you could but see her; and now how can I learn more of her? I might seek her in a business way to get her to sew for me or something of that kind,� said the little woman, looking inquiringly at her husband.
He laughed, a soft-modulated laugh, that well harmonized with his languid movements and studied grace.
“I am afraid you are premature in arriving at conclusions. You are not yet sure that she is a sewing woman. I think I begin to understand your mission on earth. You should be at the head of an organized benevolent society. You are such an adept at fishing out cases upon which to waste your sympathy.�
“Please do not laugh, Horace. It is very seldom I become interested in anything of the kind and you should encourage me,� she said.
And truly it was a rare thing for careless, thoughtless Elinor Wylie to take interest in anything outside the fashionable circle which she denominated “our set.� Her life had been too carefully ordered for her to have much appreciation of the wretchedness beyond her gates.
“And so you think I should allow you the luxury of an entirely new sensation,� said Mr. Wylie, with his habitual drawl. “All right. Be as benevolent as you choose, only be careful,� he continued, rising and beginning to draw on his gloves.
Mrs. Wylie looked at him inquiringly.
“I am going to keep an appointment with Colonel Fenton. By the way, Nellie, did I tell you, Doctor Lyman, the noted seer and spiritist, is coming next week to give a series of lectures in Garrett’s Hall? I think we’ll have to attend, will we not?�