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"
The expression of Beason's face was a study. Georgia laughed over it for
weeks afterwards.
"Now my chief interest," said Wyman, who was at the stage where he put
life in capital letters, and cherished harmless ideas about his own
deep understanding of the human heart, "is in Mrs. Hubers. There, I
fancy,"--it was his capital letter voice--"is a woman who understands."
"A dandy girl," said Georgia, briskly.
"She has the artistic temperament?" he pursued.
"Oh, not disagreeably so," she retorted.
"You see," turning to Beason, who was plainly impatient at this shifting
to anything so irrelevant as a wife, "I play quite a leading part in Dr.
Hubers' life. I'm his cousin--that's the accident of birth; but I handed
over to him his wife, for which he owes me undying gratitude. I'm looking
for something really splendid from Europe."
"I wish I hadn't gone home so early that spring," sighed Wyman. "I'd like
to have seen that little affair. It must have been the real thing in
romance.


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