St. Vincent? Pshaw! I knew it all the time. She got
it into her head that the whole of him wasn't worth a little finger of
you, and she tried to break things up. You'll never know how she
worked with him. I told her she didn't know the Welse, and she said
so, too, after. So there it is; take it or leave it."
"But what do you think about St. Vincent?"
"What I think is neither here nor there; but I'll tell you honestly
that I back her judgment. But that's not the point. What are you
going to do about it? about her? now?"
She did not answer, but went back to the waiting group. Lucile saw her
coming and watched her face.
"He's been telling you--?"
"That I am a fool," Frona answered. "And I think I am." And with a
smile, "I take it on faith that I am, anyway. I--I can't reason it out
just now, but. . ."
Captain Alexander discovered a prenuptial joke just about then, and led
the way over to the stove to crack it upon the colonel, and Vance went
along to see fair play.
"It's the first time," Lucile was saying, "and it means more to me, so
much more, than to . . . most women. I am afraid. It is a terrible
thing for me to do. But I do love him, I do!" And when the joke had
been duly digested and they came back, she was sobbing, "Dear, dear
Frona."
It was just the moment, better than he could have chosen; and capped
and mittened, without knocking, Jacob Welse came in.
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