At the bottom of the lawn was the stable, and upon the concrete in front of its wide-open door the groom was currying one of the carriage horses. While Page addressed herself to her fruit and coffee, Jadwin put down his paper, and, his elbows on the arms of his rattan chair, sat for a long time looking out at the horse. By and by he got up and said:

“That new feed has filled ’em out in good shape. Think I’ll go out and tell Jarvis to try it on the buggy team.” He pushed open the French windows and went out, the setter sedately following.

Page dug her spoon into her grapefruit, then suddenly laid it down and turned to Laura, her chin upon her palm.

“Laura,” she said, “do you think I ought to marry⁠—a girl of my temperament?”

“Marry?” echoed Laura.

“Sh-h!” whispered Page. “Laura⁠—don’t talk so loud. Yes, do you?”