Miss Avery, sublimely unaware that Mr. West was going to offer marriage
to her rival during the present month, the marriage itself to take place
in October, indolently continued:--
"To my mind she's quite the most attractive dear little thing in town. I
suppose she's quite recovered from her disappointment over
the--hospital, or whatever it was?"
"Oh, I believe so. I never heard her mention it but once."
West's pleasant face had clouded a little. Through her fluttering veil
she noted that fact with distinct satisfaction.
"I never met that interesting young Mr. Surface," said she, sweeping the
car around a curve in the white road and evading five women in a surrey
with polished skill. "But--truly, I have found myself thinking of him
and feeling sorry for him more than once."
"Sorry for him--What about?"
"Oh, haven't you heard, then? It's rather mournful. You see, when
Charlotte Weyland found out that he had written a certain editorial in
the _Post_--you know more about this part of it than I--"
"But he didn't write it," said West, unhesitatingly. "I wrote it
myself.
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