"I can't help looking at them. Everybody else is looking at
them--including yourself."
It was quite true--everybody was, even people considerably out of range.
If Dahlia herself was conscious of this--and I'm sure she must have
been--she probably ascribed it to the charm of her appearance. She is
even prettier than she used to be. But, as we were wont to say of her
when we had owned to all her attractiveness--"if only!"
"After all," urged Hepatica, on the homeward way, "we've no right to
judge by seeing them under those conditions. Wait till we've had them
alone with us. Dahlia told me on the way out that they were planning to
come and see us very soon.--I suggested to-morrow night, so they will
come then."
"I'll be there," accepted the Philosopher--quite before he was asked.
So on the following evening we saw them, alone with ourselves. The dear
Professor seemed to us, more than before, the pitiable victim of a woman
in every way unsuited to him. Yet he looked at Dahlia as if he cared for
her very much, and was only a trifle bewildered by her manner with other
men.
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