“Not yet—quite—but almost—Will be in a week. Isn’t that a darling?” She held up the garment, and spanned it with her pink fingers.
“Well, you women are curious,” said her husband, almost with a gasp. “Here you have been abusing Ruth Welch and Mrs. Bolter and every woman Larry Middleton knew in the world, and all the time he was dead in love with your own sister!”
“Umhm!” She looked up and nodded brightly, then broke into a laugh. “And you think that’s curious?”
“Well, I’m glad of it. Larry’s a good fellow. Now I see it all. I thought he was uncommonly glad to see me to-day, and when I undertook to chaff him a little about Ruth Welch, looked rather red and silly.”
“You didn’t!” said his wife, aghast. “What in the world——!”
“Oh! I’ll make it all right the next time I see him. How was I to know? I’ll write to Alice and congratulate her.”
“Indeed, you’ll not. Not a word. You’ll ruin everything!”
“Why?”
“Why, he hasn’t spoken yet——”
“Why, you just said—” He lapsed into reflection.