In Jane, Elise found a highly sympathetic confidante, but even Jane was prompted to ask frankly,
“But what does he do, Elise? Does he sell his pictures?”
“He does,” cried Elise. “He’s sold three! He did a perfectly lovely design once for a stationer’s advertising calendar—it was a picture of a girl, he said, with a lot of red roses in her arms. And he did a picture of some wild animals for a sportsman’s den.”
“And what was the other one?”
“I—he didn’t tell me. We started to talk of something else. Oh, Jane, are you going to be horrid about him, too?” cried Elise, suddenly bursting into tears. Then, having grown quite artful where any defense of her suitor was necessary, she added, “Paul was an artist, and you didn’t laugh at him!” To Jane it seemed hardly worth while to point out what appeared to her to be the many differences between Paul and Mr. Montgomery. So she disregarded Elise’s challenge, and putting both arms around her sister, said half-laughing,
“You know I’m not going to be horrid about him. I like him very much.”
“Do you really, Janey?” asked Elise, brightening. “Oh, Jane you can’t imagine how unselfish he is. He—he said he’d give up everything for me. He said he’d break stones in a quarry—boo—hoo!” And here Elise again dissolved into tears.
“Well, he won’t, dear,” said Jane comfortingly, “I mean—that is—he probably won’t have to. There are so many other things that he could do, you see. What else did he say?”
“What else? Oh, well—not very much,” answered Elise, blushing, and beginning to dimple. “He said that—he—he’d have to have a talk with father.”
“Good gracious! Then he—oh, Elise!”