"Some day," said her husband, sturdily, "it will be all my cleverness ... all my glory. I did honestly believe it was a cradle chumship which wouldn't last, Mildred. I thought it would break of its own length. But I'm glad it hasn't."
"Stephen, how can you? One of the 'Wild Kings'—I cannot bear it. I simply cannot bear it." She clutched at her hope. "She must go abroad even sooner than we planned—and stay abroad. Stephen, you will make them keep it a secret from every one?"
"They've already told Carter. Told him just after they'd told me."
"Oh, poor, poor Carter!" There was a note of fresh woe in her voice.
He turned sharply to look at her. "So, that's where the pointed patent leather pinches, Mildred?"
"What do you mean?"
"You've been hoping it would be Carter?"
"Dearest, I've looked upon them all as children.... It was the merest ... idea ... thought. Mrs. Van Meter is devoted to Honor, Carter is an unusual boy, and they're exceptional people. And he—of course, I mean in his boyish way—adores Honor. This will be a cruel blow for him." She grieved. "Poor, frail boy...."
Stephen Lorimer smoked in silence for a moment. "I fancy Carter will not give up hope. There's nothing frail about his disposition. His will doesn't limp."