I had far too much prudence, however, to talk on this subject with
Sylvia; if I talked with any one I must do it very cautiously. One
morning I called upon Miss Laniston. That lady was informed on a great
many points, and, moreover, was exceedingly free-spoken. I did not
expect any direct information from her, but she might say something from
which I might make inferences.
She thought I had come to thank her for what she had done for me, but I
assured her that this ceremony must be postponed for the present, for
Sylvia had instructed me to write my gratitude in a letter, which she
thought would be a much preferable method than for me to pour it out in
a private interview.
"Your Sylvia seems to be a jealous little body," she remarked.
"Oh, no," said I, "although, of course, it is natural enough for persons
in our state of mind to have tendencies that way. By the way, one of
these tendencies on her part was rather odd. Do you know that at one
time she was almost jealous of her cousin Marcia, at that time a
gray-bonneted sister? As you know so much of our affairs I do not think
I am going too far in telling that."
Miss Laniston seemed to be considering the subject.
"It is the commonest thing," she said presently, "to make mistakes about
matters of this sort.
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