Sally nodded. Her mouth was set. There was an angry sparkle in her
eyes. "Yes, yes. They pretend to avoid each other, but they are in love
or I never saw two people in love. I suspected it in Washington, but I
have become sure of it up here. What is the matter? I don't think she
is his equal, if she is our thirty-first cousin, for I would bet my
last dollar there was a misalliance somewhere--but you look almost
horror-struck."
"I was, but I can't tell you why. I don't believe it's true, though.
She is not Jack's style. She hasn't a grain of humour in her."
"When a man's imagination is captured by a beauty as perfect as that,
he doesn't discover that it is without humour till he has married it.
Besides, any man can fall in love with any woman; I'm convinced of
that. You might as well try to turn this lake upside down as to mate
types."
"I don't think she would deceive me," exclaimed Betty, hopefully. "I
cannot tell you all, but I am nearly sure she would never do that."
"Any woman who has a secret constantly on her mind is bound to become
secretive, not to say deceitful in other ways. What is her secret?" she
asked abruptly. "Has she negro blood in her veins?"
"Oh, Sally!" This time Betty did drop the oars, and her face was
scarlet as she lunged after them. She was furious at having betrayed
Harriet's secret, but Sally Carter had a fashion of going straight for
the truth and getting it.
"I thought so," said Miss Carter, dryly. "Don't take the trouble to
deny it. And don't think for a moment, Betty dear, that I am going to
embarrass you with further questions. I could never imagine you
actuated by any but the highest motives. I should consider the whole
thing none of my business if it were not for Jack. Faugh! how he would
hate her if he knew!"
"I am afraid he would. I don't believe he is man enough to love her
better for her miserable inheritance."
"He is a Southern gentleman; I should hope he would not. I am by no
means without sympathy for her. I pity her deeply, and have ever since
I discovered that she loved him. For he must be told."
"Shall you tell him?"
Sally did not answer for a moment, and her face flushed deeply. Then
she said unsteadily: "No; for I could not be sure of my motive. Here is
my secret. I have loved Jack Emory ever since I can remember. It is
impossible for me to assure myself that I would consider interference
in their affairs warrantable if I cared nothing for him. I cannot
afford to despise myself for tattling out of petty jealousy. But you
are responsible for her. You should tell him."
"I will speak to her as soon as we go back. If it is true that they are
engaged, and if she refuses to tell him, I shall. But I'd almost rather
come out here and drown myself."
"So should I."
"You're a brick, Sally, and I wish to heaven you were going to marry
Jack to-morrow. That would be a really happy marriage."
"So I have thought for years! When he got over his attack of you, I
began to hope, although I'd got wrinkles crying about him. I never
thought of any other woman in the case." She laughed, with a defiant
attempt to recover her old spirits. "And I cannot have the happiness of
seeing him one day in bronze, and feeling that he is all mine! For he
hasn't even that spark of luck which so often passes for infinitesimal
greatness, poor dear!"
"How did you guess that she had the taint in her?" asked Betty, as they
were about to land. "She has not a suggestion of it in her face."
"I _felt_ it. So vaguely that I scarcely put it in words to myself
until lately. And I never saw such an amount of pink on finger-nails in
my life."