"'We sail for Liverpool from New York,'" Jessica exclaimed, mocking her acquaintance. "'Expect to spend most of the "summah" in France,'—vain thing. As if it was anything to go to Europe."
"It must be if you envy her so much," put in Hurstwood.
It grated upon him to see the feeling his daughter displayed.
"Don't worry over them, my dear," said Mrs. Hurstwood.
"Did George get off?" asked Jessica of her mother another day, thus revealing something that Hurstwood had heard nothing about.
"Where has he gone?" he asked, looking up. He had never before been kept in ignorance concerning departures.
"He was going to Wheaton," said Jessica, not noticing the slight put upon her father.
"What's out there?" he asked, secretly irritated and chagrined to think that he should be made to pump for information in this manner.
"A tennis match," said Jessica.
"He didn't say anything to me," Hurstwood concluded, finding it difficult to refrain from a bitter tone.