'
'I don't think I am anxious; not particularly. And don't worry, my dear
boy; it's very becoming,' said Edith.
Bruce patted her head, and gave her a kiss, smiling.
CHAPTER VIII
'We're lunching with the Mitchells today,' said Edith.
'Oh yes. I remember. I'm looking forward to it,' graciously said Madame
Frabelle. 'It's a pity your husband can't come, isn't it? Ah, you
naughty girl, I don't believe you think so!' Madame Frabelle, archly
shook her finger at Edith.
'Eglantine, have you really seriously talked yourself into thinking that
Mr Mitchell is anything to me?'
'I don't say, dear,' said Madame Frabelle, sitting down comfortably, and
bringing out her knitting, 'that you yourself are aware of it. I don't
say that you're in love with him, but that he is devoted to you anyone
with half-an-eye can see. And some day,' she shook her head, 'some day
your interest in him may take you by surprise.'
'It is _your_ interest in him that surprises me,' said Edith. 'He's a
good friend, and we like him very much. But for anything else!--'
'If so, it's really rather wonderful,' mused Eglantine, 'that you've
never had a thought, even the merest dream, beyond your husband; that it
has never even occurred to you that anyone else might have suited your
temperament better.
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