Miss Janney sank in a chair by the table, fingering the pages of a magazine. She said nothing in reply, but in a few moments spoke carelessly.
"Tell me something about Lawrence Berkely, will you?"
"Larry? You’ve only met him once. Your curiosity is indecent."
"You know he’s coming here with the Wrays."
"Not really? That’s going a bit strong. I don’t think I’ll stand for that."
"Oh, yes, you will. He’s quite as good as we are. He belongs to _the_ Berkelys of Virginia. Mrs. Rumsen knows them."
"That’s convincing. Any one Aunt Caroline knows will need no card to Saint Peter. Oh, Larry’s all right. But I warn you not to fall in love with him."
"That’s precisely what I’ve done," she asserted.
He glanced at her amusedly, but she met his look coolly.
"It’s true, Cort. He’s actually the only man I’ve met since I came out who really isn’t eligible. I’m so delighted. Of course, father would never have permitted it if he’d only known that Mr. Berkely wasn’t rich. He hasn’t much use for poor people. Oh, he’s well enough off, I suppose, as Mr. Wray’s partner, but then he doesn’t own any of that fabulous gold mine."
"He told me. Besides, he’s terribly good looking, and has had something the matter with his lungs."
"That’s why he’s been living in the West. But he’s quite well now. Isn’t it splendid? I only hope he’ll like me. Don’t you think he has wonderful eyes?"
"I’m sure I never noticed. See here, Gretchen, you’re talking rot. I’m going to tell your father."
"Oh, I don’t care," airily. "But if you do, I’ll tell Mr. Wray."
Miss Janney exploded this bombshell casually while she removed her hat, watching him carefully meanwhile in the mirror. If she had planned her coup, she could not have been more fully rewarded, for Cortland started up, clutching at the chair arms, his face aghast; but when his eyes met hers in the mirror he sank back again, laughing uneasily.
"What—who on earth put that silly idea into your head?"
"You—yourself. I watched you at the Warringtons."
"What nonsense! I’ve known Camilla a long time."
"Not so long as you’ve known me. And you never looked at me like that." She laid her hat beside her crop on the table, then turned quickly and put her hand over his on the chair arm. "You may trust me, Cortland, dear. If I’m going to be your sister, I may as well begin at once. It’s true, isn’t it?"