H. C. Bailey

“ Weston smiled upon him. "Aye, you are very careful of her."
"I vow I would not so insult her." Harry laughed.
"But you need not be afraid. Susan is here for herself. She is like that. She is the most independent woman ever I knew. She has come because she loves Alison."
"Why, then, I love her. And egad it will be easy. She's a splendid piece."
Mrs. Weston gave him an anxious glance. "She is very loyal," said she, with some emphasis.
"It's a virtue. To be sure it's a virtue of the stupid." Harry cocked a teasing eye at her. "And I—well, ma'am, you wouldn't call me stupid." ”

“ Weston, who started and stood up, laughing nervously. "Indeed Alison will be pleased. You are kind. I know she has been longing to see you."
Susan laughed and, a large young goddess of health, stooped to kiss the worn face. "You always talk about somebody else. Are you pleased?"
"My dear!" Mrs. Weston protested. "You know I am."
"We match very well. You never want to talk, and I never have anything to say." Susan sat down, and for some time the only sound was from Mrs. Weston's needle. At last, "You are still here, then," Susan said. ”