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"Which? The English girl?"
"No; Sybil Brandon."
"Thank you, I am not thinking of being married," said John, a half-comic,
half-contemptuous look in his strong face. "Miss Brandon could do better
than marry a penniless politician, and besides, even if I wanted it, I
care too much for Miss Brandon's friendship to risk losing it by asking
her to marry me."
"Nonsense, my dear fellow," said Vancouver, "she would accept you straight
off. So would the other."
"You ought to know," said John, eyeing his companion calmly.
Vancouver looked away; it was generally believed that he had been refused
by Miss Brandon more than a year previous.
"Well, you can take my word for it, you could not do better," he answered,
ambiguously. "There is no knowing how the moonlight effects on Jamaica
Pond may strike you this evening. I say, though, you were pretty lucky in
having such warm weather the night before last."
"Yes," said John. "The house was full. Were you there?"
"Of course. If I were not a Republican I would congratulate you on your
success.


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