“I mean what you’ve been so accustomed to in women, you dear, that you don’t know they can lack it,” she said, caressingly. “Is she nice? Is she a lady?”
Something threatening looked out of her brother’s eyes. “Well, I introduced her to you.”
“I know. You put me in rather a difficult position, Wallie.”
“See here, Lil”—he dragged out his words with slow emphasis—“I don’t know who you’ve been listening to, but you can take it from me that’s she as fine as silk and as good as gold.”
“Oh, as to her goodness, I haven’t a doubt, of course.” She seemed to set this aside as a trifle. “But as to fineness, now, Wallie, what do you think of a girl driving through town in her bathing suit, with a man, and jumping out of her coat and shoes on the beach before everyone, as she did? She did it to make a sensation; and do you think that fine, Wallie?”
He flushed, but laughed.
“Nonsense. It was a whim—a freak. She thought nothing at all of any effect on the beach. That’s the trouble; she thinks too little of the effect, and so——”
“And so she wears no stockings—and so she’s called ‘the Wrecker,’” his sister added, with inconsequent effect.
His face was grave, even disturbed. “Oh, yes, I’ve heard that. But she’s so beautiful, so happy, you can’t wonder at the attraction; and you know there’s always gossip. And then she’s run wild. She has had no one to take care of her——” he left the sentence hanging.
His sister inwardly shivered. When a man talked about “taking care” in that tone, she seemed to see the end.