"You, at least, must find such an existence very, very quiet."
"Quiet, yes; dull, no. Since I left school it is the only kind of life I have known, and I have never longed for any other. Besides"--with a demure glance at the young man--"have I not everything a girl could wish for to make me happy?"
"Sweet one!" exclaimed Walter Deane,--as he sprang to his feet. That half veiled glance was more than flesh and blood could withstand.
Another instant and his arms would have been about her. But Miss Drelincourt sprang back with a warning finger on her lips. "Hush! I think there's some one coming," she whispered. In point of fact, she thought nothing of the kind. But the pretense answered its purpose. Young Deane slunk back to his seat with rather a shamefaced air.
Finding no one appeared, he made a mental note that he had been tricked, but deemed it best to postpone his revenge.
"I don't think I ever saw two people so wholly devoted to each other as Mr. and Mrs. Drelincourt are," he presently remarked. "They are more like--well--like lovers than----"
"Than two people who have been long enough married to have a daughter who will be eighteen on the second of next month. But they are always the same. They seem to live only for each other."
"And for their daughter."
"Oh, I am quite a secondary person, I assure you, especially with papa. Do you know, Wally, I believe he is sometimes actually jealous of me when he thinks I am paying mamma too many attentions. It almost seems as if he grudged me more than a tiny corner of her heart."
"That seems rather a strange feeling for a father to entertain."