Natalie Sumner Lincoln

“ Parsons’ lips and her eyes danced.
“Leigh was very, very smitten with Kitty,” she asserted, as she paused before the long gilt mirror and adjusted her lorgnette chain. “Do you suppose it could have been Leigh who tried to kill Ted last night?”
Craige stood just behind her and looking in the mirror she saw his face reflected over her shoulder. His expression of surprise gave place to doubt—to wonder—
“By Jove!” he exclaimed. “No, it can’t be, Cecelia. Leigh, whatever his faults, is the type of man who fights in the open.”
“Jealousy changes a man’s nature sometimes,” she murmured. ”

“ Mrs. Parsons’ surprise at the question was manifest. “You know he is not one of my favorites. He bored me to death in San Francisco; he is so intense—” she shrugged her shoulders. “I saw his wife this morning.” ”

“ I find—” and the lines about her mouth hardened—“it pays to be. Will you dine with me to-morrow night, Charles?”
“Surely,” with eager haste. “And will you go to the theater afterward?”
“Perhaps.” She laid her hand for the fraction of a second against his cheek with a caressing motion. “Careful, dear, James is waiting to open the door for you—” and Craige perforce contented himself with a formal handshake as the servant came forward to the foot of the short flight of steps with his overcoat and hat.
Craige was about to step into his motor when he became aware that the butler was at his elbow. ”