"The girl he had selected for the distinguished honor was in Bermuda—"
Marian Thatcher was interested. Her amusement over her friend's annoyances, real or imagined, became tempered by curiosity, and that changed a passing incident into an event.
"He told you this and yet proposed to you? Who was the other girl?"
"You really don't know?"
"Certainly not. Why should I know? This is all news to me."
"I'm glad to be able to tell you something, my dear Marian," Edith said complacently. "You are so terribly superior it really cheers me up to have the chance to add to your knowledge, even in a small way. Mr. Cosden came down here for the purpose of proposing to Merry."
"To Merry!" Marian cried. "That man had the audacity to think he could marry my child! Well, upon my soul! Why, he never saw her more than two or three times before he came to Bermuda! How could he possibly have fallen in love—"
"In love!" Edith laughed. "Love? That's a real joke! Mr. Cosden has never dealt in that commodity! I tell you, Marian, he just picks out the thing he wants, and then he gets it—"
"He could never get my daughter."
"But you just said you admired men who had confidence in themselves—"