There was a dangerous expression in the brown eyes. For a moment the lips were slightly compressed, then she arose and went to her desk quite calmly.
"What are you going to do?" inquired her mother.
"Ask Dudley Maltby to dinner and to the opera Friday night. He shall pay for that remark with every particle of his reputation."
"It strikes me that you are rather—rather neglecting Leith of late."
"Nonsense! That is something which I shall never do; but he is safe enough. He is more in love with me than he ever was in his life before."
Mrs. Chalmers looked a trifle uncomfortable. She hesitated a moment while Jessica was selecting a pen, then said, forcing herself to speak quietly:
"What makes you think so?"
"He told me tonight that I had neglected him cruelly, and that he felt piqued and hurt. He said that there was no woman who had the power to hurt him as I had."
"But—but he—he didn't tell you that he—he loved you, did he? He didn't ask you to be his wife?"
"What do you mean?"