“The girls were just as pretty, I guess,” he insisted. “And there were plenty of buggies, if anybody had designs.”
There was a pause, and the buzz of voices from the other room rose loudly.
“They’ve neither of them got their mother’s looks,” he observed; and then, with apparent irrelevance: “When will they be considered safe to go about alone?”
“I don’t know exactly what you mean,” she began a little coldly, but his laugh reassured her.
“Oh, yes, you do,” he contradicted, “and don’t you be getting cross at your Cousin Lorando Bean! You know I always loved to tease you; it made your eyes snap—and it does now.”
“How can you?” She looked reproachfully at him.
“And I tell you this, Cousin Jule: neither of those girls will ever get up a color like that!”
