"Somehow, papa seems different from other people. I can't explain how or in what way, only I feel that there is a difference."
"There's a magnetism about Mr. Drelincourt which seems to draw people to him whether they wish it or no. Me he attracts more than any man I ever met."
"You are not the only one by many who has experienced the same peculiar attraction. Can you wonder at mamma and I loving him so dearly?"
Before there was time to say more the portière was drawn aside, and the second Mrs. Drelincourt advanced slowly into the room.
Although she had left her fortieth birthday behind her, she was still a very beautiful woman, with a freshness and purity of complexion almost rivaling that of her daughter. Strangers seeing them together found it hard to realize that she was Marian's mother.
"Mamma," exclaimed Marian, "I have here the very first Gloire de Dijon which has come into bloom. I've been watching it for days on purpose that you might have it. I've not forgotten that it's your favorite flower."
"You are always thinking of me."
"As if it were possible to think of you and love you half as much as you deserve!" said Marian, as she proceeded to fix the flower in her mother's dress.
"That would indeed be an impossibility."
Everybody started and turned their eyes in one direction. The speaker was Mr. Drelincourt. He was standing in the archway, holding the portière aside with one hand.