Page:Stella Dallas, a novel (IA stelladallasnove00prou).pdf/172

162 couldn't because I had to go back to New York the next day. I hated to go back to New York to Miss Simpson. Mother, next to you I think Mrs. Morrison is the loveliest lady I ever saw." Laurel's voice actually trembled.

Stella removed the orange-stick from her mouth and laid it down on the table beside the buffer.

"There," she said, "how do those look?" And she held up Laurel's fingers for her to see. She spoke harshly. She had to or the child might discover the tremble in her voice too.

Laurel gave the fingers a hasty glance. "They're all right," she remarked. Then dropping her hands on the bath-towel, and gazing out of the window, she added, and a glow stole into her eyes—into her voice also, "Mrs. Morrison has the most beautiful hands—long and white and slim like the rest of her. I wish I could have hands like hers!"

got up and went into the bathroom. She closed the door and locked it, then turned on both faucets, so that Laurel would think she was busy washing up. She stood staring at herself in the mirror over the wash-stand, while the water gushed into the basin.

Laurel had never glowed about a woman before. Stella didn't know what to make of it. It perplexed her. It hurt her. It hurt her more than the possibility that Stephen might be glowing about the same woman. Who was she, anyway—this tall mysterious siren, who was bewitching Lollie with her youth and beauty and prosperity, buying the kiddie's