Emma Speed Sampson

“ Irene whispered to Josie, when Elizabeth went back to her noisy copying of the flamboyant story. “Of course, if such a charmer as Mrs. Markle wanted the attentions of a young man she could have them without lifting an eyelash.”
“I’m not so sure of that,” insisted Josie. “Some men don’t fall for so much beauty of face. They are on the lookout for beauty of soul. Wonderful damask napkins she left! Did you look at the embroidered initials? I hope I won’t scorch them. There is no telling what they are worth. Each one is big enough for a tablecloth.” ”

“ Dulaney might be tempted by the marvelous little book. He is, to all appearances, a charming young man, but then after all we don’t really know him very well.”
“We know him as well as we know you,” was on the tip of Irene’s tongue, but she did not say it, only bowed her head stiffly when Hortense included her in the beaming smile and wave of farewell.
“Rather catty, I call that,” said Elizabeth, when their charming visitor was well out of ear shot. “What do you think she meant by suggesting such a horrid thing, Josie?” ”

“ Markle. I am sure Mr. Dulaney is honor itself. I think he can be trusted with anything, no matter how valuable. I’d stake my life on it.”
“And I, mine!” spoke up Irene in a low clear voice.
“Ah, and so the handsome Goliath has champions among the fair sex,” laughed Hortense. “Heavens, children, I had no idea of bringing down such a deluge of vituperation on my poor little head! I was merely interested in the little book, not on my own account but on my husband’s. Felix was so excited over your having such a book, my dear Josie. He has always been interested in codes and hieroglyphics. ”