Jessica turned suddenly, her interest in the note abated.
"Nothing special," answered her mother, carelessly, "only—only that he—well, he doesn't seem half so devoted to you as he did before he went away."
"He called upon me almost within the hour of his return."
"Yes, I know he did, but—but he hasn't followed it up well, and—my dear Jessica, I found a Spanish book in his overcoat pocket tonight."
It never occurred to Jessica to ask how she had found it in his overcoat pocket, or what she was doing looking through the pocket. She was accustomed to that, and thought nothing of it. It was the fact which interested her. Her brows drew angrily.
"Do you mean to say that you think he is in love with Carlita?" she asked, her voice tense and strange.
"Perhaps not exactly in love with her," answered her mother, uneasily, "but very much interested in her."
"I would kill her first! I would kill them both!"
The words came through the set lips as if the speaker were perfectly capable of carrying out her threat or any other dire calamity that should suggest itself to her, and Mrs. Chalmers moved anxiously.
"Perhaps I shouldn't have said quite so much!" she exclaimed, soothingly. "It may be only a desire to—to understand, but—but—"