"Why?"
"I've had nothing but dreams," Bibbs said, desolately, "but they
weren't like that. Sibyl said no girl could care about me." He
smiled faintly, though still he did not look at Mary. "And when
I first came home Edith told me Sibyl was so anxious to marry that
she'd have married ME. She meant it to express Sibyl's extremity,
you see. But I hardly needed either of them to tell me. I hadn't
thought of myself as--well, not as particularly captivating!"
Oddly enough, Mary's pallor changed to an angry flush. "Those
two!" she exclaimed, sharply; and then, with thoroughgoing contempt:
"Lamhorn! That's like them!" She turned away, went to the bare
little black mantel, and stood leaning upon it. Presently she
asked: "WHEN did Mrs. Roscoe Sheridan say that 'no girl' could
care about you?"
"To-day."
Mary drew a deep breath. "I think I'm beginning to understand--a
little." She bit her lip; there was anger in good truth in her eyes
and in her voice. "Answer me once more," she said. "Bibbs, do you
know now why I stopped wearing my furs?"
"Yes."
"I thought so! Your sister-in-law told you, didn't she?"
"I--I heard her say--"
"I think I know what happened, now.
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