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They make me think of myself and then I get gawky." "You'll forget yourself when you see Nancy Thornton." "Nancy queer old name for a modern girl!" The two puffed away like old cronies Raymond had got into a chair now and Mrs. Tweksbury had relaxed, also. "She isn't modern!" "No? What then, Aunt Emily?" "Ken, she's just woman.
Tweksbury could never stand the excitement now, or even this summer." Doris's voice was more suggestive of attention as she now spoke. Martin waited. "I know, Aunt Dorrie, but I am sure she would rather have me and Ken married than come to our wedding. Listen, duckie! Suppose, after Joan comes, we plan the dearest little service in the Chapel I'm sure we could snatch Father Noble as he flits by.
"Yes?" purred Patricia. Then: "I see the finish of Plain John's romance, my sinister Syl, if you don't limber up your spine. Genius, love, and unbending virtue never pull together." And then it was when March was dreariest and drippiest Kenneth Raymond strode that was the only word to describe his long-legged advance into the Brier Bush for luncheon with Mrs. Tweksbury.
Tweksbury dilated upon what Doris had confided of Nancy's loyal and devoted life. "You see, Ken," Mrs. Tweksbury ran on, "the girl is like a rare thing that you cannot debate much about, and once lost, the opportunity will never come again. I've gone off about her, Ken." "I should say you had! Will you smoke, Aunt Emily?" "Yes!"
I have an unpleasant remembrance of the girl, too." Mrs. Tweksbury smiled grimly. "She was always a pert chit, and I believe she is like her disreputable father you know about him, Ken?" "Yes something. Miss Fletcher mentioned him she says she wants to have a talk later on. But what do I care, Aunt Emily?" "I should rather like to know, myself." Mrs. Tweksbury sniffed scandal.
To see Emily Tweksbury smoke was about as incongruous as to see an antique remodelled to bring it up to date; but the smoke calmed her. "You will call with me upon her, won't you, Ken?" "With pleasure." Raymond felt that any compromise would be well to offer. "I'll do my best by her, too, Aunt Emily. I rather shy at perfect types; girls, at the best, make me skittish.
She's a wonderful woman, always was. Has a passion for helping others live their lives she's never had time to live her own." "Bad business." Raymond shook his head. "Oh! I don't know, boy. The older I grow the more inclined I am to believe that it is only by helping others live that one lives himself." This was trite and did not get anywhere, so Mrs. Tweksbury plunged a trifle.
Elspeth smiled her most dignified smile and replied graciously: "Just a bit of amusement, Mrs. Tweksbury. It helps digestion and, incidentally, helps business." "But the the young woman, Miss Gordon is she a professional?" "Have you tested her, Mrs. Tweksbury?" "Oh! no, my dear Miss Gordon." Mrs. Tweksbury had beautiful old hands and she turned the palms up while she considered them.
"Of course, of course, my child. Very indiscreet of me but I was taken off my guard." Then "My dears, will you kiss me?" This to the children keeping their courage up by clinging together. "No," Joan replied in a tone entirely free from bad manners but weighted with simple truth; "Joan likes to kiss Auntie Dorrie." The inference stiffened Mrs. Tweksbury and caused Doris a qualm. "And you?"
It was a disapproving glance, to be sure, and Joan shrank from that, but she felt that he was cruelly misjudging her and was so sure of himself that he dared to do it without even knowing! This she resented with a flash of her wonderful eyes. What Raymond really meant was doubt. Not of her, but himself. "Saucy witch!" whispered Mrs. Tweksbury; "Ken, test her, for my sake!"
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