The Colonel's mind had been working on the problems of Broussard's visit to Mrs.Lawrence, and the look he had noticed for some time past in Anita's eyes when Broussard was present, or even when his name was mentioned.
"I am afraid, Betty," said the Colonel, "that Anita thinks too much and too often of Broussard.

And in spite of that trick of horsemanship there are some things a trifle unsatisfactory about him." "Really, Jack," answered Mrs.Fortescue, "you take Anita's moods far too seriously.

The girl will have her little affairs as other girls have theirs.

It's like measles and chicken-pox and other infantile diseases." "Not for Anita," said Colonel Fortescue, "that child has in her tragic possibilities.

Her heart is brittle, depend upon it." "So are all hearts," replied Mrs.Fortescue, "but you are so ridiculously sentimental and lackadaisical about Anita!" "She is my one ewe lamb," said the Colonel.
Then they went down-stairs together, and the next minute Anita appeared, wearing a gown of white and silver, with a delicious little train, which she managed as well as a seventeen-year-old could manage a train.
In a minute or two the guests began arriving.