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Westover wondered how she really regarded her own marriage, but she never betrayed any consciousness of its variance from the type. A young couple came strolling down the avenue who to Westover's artistic eye first typified grace and strength, and then to his more personal perception identified themselves as Genevieve Vostrand and Jeff Durgin.
Vostrand to these, but the others might be more difficult; they might have their anxieties, and Westover meant to ask the leader of the class to help him receive at the studio tea he had at once imagined for the Vostrands, and that would make her doubly responsible.
"Well!" said Whitwell. "How very amusing!" said Mrs. Vostrand. "What a small world it is!" With these words she fell into a vagary; her daughter recalled her from it with a slight movement. "Breakfast? How impatient you are, Genevieve! Well!" She smiled the sweetest parting to Whitwell, and suffered herself to be led away by Jeff. "And you're at Harvard? I'm so interested!
Jeff laughed, with a shake of the head, and Whitwell continued, "Why, it was like this," and he possessed the ladies of a fact which they professed to find extremely interesting. At the end of their polite expressions he asked Jeff again: "What did you say the name was?" "Aquitaine," said Jeff, briefly. "Why, we came on the Aquitaine!" said Mrs. Vostrand, with a smile for Jeff.
But the fact anomalously incensed him as a slight to the girl, who might have been still more sacrificed by Jeff's constancy. He forced himself to add: "I fancy Mrs. Vostrand doesn't know herself." "I wish I didn't know where I was going to be," said Jeff. "Well, good- bye, Mr. Westover. I'll see you in Boston." "Oh, good-bye."
Vostrand was taking him on the right ground, as a Harvard student, and nobody need take him on any other. Possibly people would ask him to teas at their own houses, from Westover's studio, but he could not feel that he was concerned in that. Society is interested in a man's future, not his past, as it is interested in a woman's past, not her future.
"He's rather old for a Sophomore, I believe. He's twenty-two." "And Genevieve is twenty. Mr. Westover, may I trust you with something?" "With everything, I hope, Mrs. Vostrand." "It's about Genevieve. Her father is so opposed to her making a foreign marriage. It seems to be his one great dread.
At the top she made a little pause in the obscurer light of the close-shuttered corridor, while she said: "I liked her daughter the best." "Yes?" he returned. "I never felt very well acquainted with her, I believe. One couldn't get far with her. Though, for the matter of that, one didn't get far with Mrs. Vostrand herself. Did you think Genevieve was much influenced by her mother?"
They were chiefly for the theatre, and Westover saw him with her and her mother at different plays; he wondered how Jeff had caught on to the notion of asking Mrs. Vostrand to come with them. Jeff's introductions at Westover's tea had not been many, and they had not availed him at all.
She was right about that other picnic the one I wanted to make for Mrs. Vostrand. I suppose," he ended, unexpectedly, "that you hear from them, now and then?" "No, I don't. I haven't heard from them for a year; not since You knew Genevieve was married?" "Yes, I knew that," said Jeff, steadily. "I don't quite make it all out. Mr. Vostrand was very much opposed to it, Mrs.
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