"But have you no friend you could ask to--?"

"Josie! Would you?" eagerly interrupted Mrs. Durant. "She will be
influenced, I know, by anything you--"

"Gracious, my dear, I never dreamed of--of you asking me! Why, I don't
know her in the least. I couldn't, really."

"But for my sake? And you know her as well as--as any one else; for
Constance has no intimates or--"

"Don't you see that's it? I'd as soon think of--of--From me she would only
take it as an impertinence."

"I don't see why everybody stands so in awe of a girl of twenty-three,
unless it's because she's rich," querulously sighed Mrs. Durant.

"I don't think it's that, Anne. It's her proud face and reserved manner.
And I believe those are the real reasons for her not marrying. However
much men may admire her, they--they--Well, it's your kittenish, cuddling
kind of a girl they marry."

"No; you are entirely wrong. Doubtless it is her money, but Constance has
had plenty of admirers, and if she were less self--if she considered the
interests of the family--she would have married years ago. But she is
wholly blind to her duty, and checks or rebuffs every man who attempts to
show her devotion. And just because others take their places, she is
puffed up into the belief that she is to go through life with an
everlasting train of would-be suitors, and so enjoys her own triumph, with
never a thought of my girls."