“Jennie has her good points,” he replied simply.
“And are you happy?”
“Oh, fairly so. Yes, I suppose I’m happy—as happy as any one can be who sees life as it is. You know I’m not troubled with many illusions.”
“Not any, I think, kind sir, if I know you.”
“Very likely, not any, Letty; but sometimes I wish I had a few. I think I would be happier.”
“And I, too, Lester. Really, I look on my life as a kind of failure, you know, in spite of the fact that I’m almost as rich as Croesus—not quite. I think he had some more than I have.”
“What talk from you—you, with your beauty and talent, and money—good heavens!”
“And what can I do with it? Travel, talk, shoo away silly fortune-hunters. Oh, dear, sometimes I get so tired!”
Letty looked at Lester. In spite of Jennie, the old feeling came back. Why should she have been cheated of him? They were as comfortable together as old married people, or young lovers. Jennie had had no better claim. She looked at him, and her eyes fairly spoke. He smiled a little sadly.
“Here comes my wife,” he said. “We’ll have to brace up and talk of other things. You’ll find her interesting—really.”