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"But I am getting jealous, and shall take her away because I want to talk to her all to myself!" And, when they had settled that the two girls should meet at tea the following day in Cora's sitting-room at Claridge's, where she was staying with a friend, the newly engaged pair went off together beaming with joy and affection.
They buried her on the Sabbath, and Walter's voice was sad and low as with Cora's coffin at his feet he preached from the words, "I am the Resurrection and the Life." His young wife, too, wept over the early dead, who had well nigh been her rival, and whose beautiful lace wore a calm, peaceful smile, as if she were at rest.
Jack Kimball, Cora's brother, a typical college boy, had plenty to do in unraveling the mystery of the road, while his chums, Walter Pennington and Edward Foster, were each such attractive young men that even to the end it was difficult to guess which one would carry off the highest honors socially with Cora as judge, of course.
I mean, how han'some you has growed! You allers was han'some, but now you's han'somer'n ever! 'Deed, honey, you's mons'ous han'some!" This hearty welcome and warm admiration, though only from the negro servant, helped to relieve the embarrassment of the visitor, who felt the chill of Cora's cold reception. "Thank you, Aunt Martha," she said, and followed the woman up stairs.
He was, therefore, fain to adopt a caution that in the present temper of his mind he execrated, and to listen to advice at which his fiery spirit chafed, under the vivid recollection of Cora's danger and Magua's insolence.
She brushed the hood down over Cora's ears. "Zat is ze way. Do not wear a motor hood as if it was a tiara! Zat is of a hatefulness! Such bad taste! Voila what is it zat you Americans say? ze fitness of zings. Yes, zat is what I mean." The hood certainly looked well on Cora. Bess and Belle nodded their approval.
On the following day he chanced again upon Richardson, who, to Broderick's astonishment, still brooded over Cora's "impudent remark." He did not seem to know just what it was, but the offensive flavor of it lingered. "Wonder where he is?" he kept repeating. "Deserves to be thrashed. Confound his impertinence. May do it yet." He was drinking. Broderick glanced apprehensively about.
Don't you want to try it?" and her arm stole around Cora's waist. "Why, of course we can only try, but I am afraid that you will suffer, Laurel. You are very weak," said Cora. "No, I was only frightened," and she made an effort to show that she did really feel better. "Now, when we go back we must not let father know that we are still on the island." Cora did not question this.
I got up in the Cora's house, looked at the Cura's pictures which were more meritorious as works of piety than as works of art and hastened to the Plaza, where I was told there was about to be a muster of the Chicos, and I would have a leisurely opportunity of passing them under inspection.
She promised to beg Cora to pose, and accepted an invitation for them to breakfast with him in his studio on the following Sunday morning. He carefully explained to her that his whole winter's work depended upon Cora's posing for him.
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