"
"Besides, Roxbury," she said warningly, "it's a most degenerate husband
who falls in love with his wife's sister."
They were walking in one of the mountain paths, some distance behind the
others. They did not know that Mrs. Odell-Carney had stopped to rest in
the leafy niche above the path. She was lazily fanning herself on the
stone seat that man had provided as an improvement to nature. Being a
sharp-eared person with a London drawing-room instinct, she plainly
could hear what they were saying as they approached. These were the
first words she fully grasped, and they caused her to prick up her ears:
"I don't give a hang, Edith. I'm tired of being her brother-in-law."
"You're tired of me, Roxbury, that's what it is," in plaintive tones.
"You're happy, you love and are loved, so please don't put it that way.
It's not fair. Think of the pitiable position I'm in."
"My dear Roxbury," quite severely, "if there's nothing else that will
influence you, just stop to consider the che-ild! There's Tootles, dear
Tootles, to think of."
Of course Mrs. Odell-Carney could not be expected to know that Edith was
blithely jesting.
"My dear Edith," he said, just as firmly "Tootles has nothing to do with
the case. You know, and Constance knows, and I know, and the whole world
will soon know that I'm not even related to her, poor little beggar. I
don't see why she should come between me and happiness just because she
happens to bear a social resemblance to a man who isn't her father.
Pages:
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90