Once, Lorraine’s father, who had wisely chosen to live apart from his son-in-law’s splendor, called on Lorraine during Dan’s absence out of town and said in his slow way,
“Well, my girl, have you anything to tell me?”
Lorraine was engaged in making “over-drapes” for the spare room which was to be in pink. She was the sort who could smother a heartache in making over-drapes and planning color schemes as reflected in candle-shades, braided rugs and embroidered bed-shams.
“Tell you what, father?” she did not look at him.
“Is he happy?” the old man added, which surprised her for she thought he would have asked if she was happy.
“I hope so,” she told him, laying aside the over-drapes.
“You’re a good girl, Lorraine, and you are doing your part. If God sees fit, some day you will be happy, too.”
They said no more about the matter. After he left and Lorraine, like all wives whose husbands are out of town, was eating her cold lunch off the kitchen table, she neglected her meal to wonder about the prophecy. It seemed to her, rank little atheist, that it was not God who was to see fit half as much as a girl named Thurley Precore!
When Dan returned—he had been in New York—she wondered if he had heard Thurley sing and had sent her flowers or tried to see her. As she thanked him for her present, a violet silk sunshade, she wondered if it was a sop to conscience. A cruel regiment of doubts threatened to defeat her loyal resolutions. But she made no comment nor did Dan. They talked of the summer garden, the proposed automobile trip with some other young people, the addition to Dan’s store and the splendid way in which his business was going.
“Don’t, for cat’s sake, take that Spooner girl with us!” Dan said testily, as they returned to the vacation subject. “She hangs around here all the time. What in the world do you see in her anyway?”
“Nothing, but I’m sorry for her, she’s so unhappy.”
“What’s she unhappy about? A great, big, strapping girl who ought to be at work! She makes fudge while her mother irons her dresses, every one says so.”
“Ever since she’s moved here from Pike she has camped on our doorstep. She makes me nervous with that whining voice and that giggle.” Here Dan gave excellent imitations of each. “She rouges like a burlesque actress and dresses her hair in curls.”