"Or one of the sons?"
Mary's glance crossed his, at that, with a flash of utter
comprehension. He turned instantly away, but she had begun to
laugh again.
"No," she said, "no one except the women, but mamma inquired about
the sons thoroughly!"
"Mary!" Mrs. Vertrees protested.
"Oh, most adroitly, too!" laughed the girl. "Only she couldn't help
unconsciously turning to look at me--when she did it!"
"Mary Vertrees!"
"Never mind, mamma! Mrs. Sheridan and Miss Sheridan neither of THEM
could help unconsciously turning to look at me--speculatively--at the
same time! They all three kept looking at me and talking about the
oldest son, Mr. James Sheridan, Junior. Mrs. Sheridan said his father
is very anxious 'to get Jim to marry and settle down,' and she assured
me that 'Jim is right cultivated.' Another of the sons, the youngest
one, caught me looking in the window this afternoon; but they didn't
seem to consider him quite one of themselves, somehow, though Mrs.
Sheridan mentioned that a couple of years or so ago he had been 'right
sick,' and had been to some cure or other. They seemed relieved to
bring the subject back to 'Jim' and his virtues--and to look at me!
The other brother is the middle one, Roscoe; he's the one that owns
the new house across the street, where that young black-sheep of
the Lamhorns, Robert, goes so often.
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