Page:Stella Dallas, a novel (IA stelladallasnove00prou).pdf/223

Rh Dallas this morning?" remarked Mrs. Adams to Mrs. Grosvenor.

"She's perfectly exquisite."

"How is your mother, this morning, Laurel, my dear?" Mrs. Adams inquired a moment later.

"Oh, better, thank you, Mrs. Adams," Laurel replied, turning her flushed, pleased face toward the older woman. "The sweet-peas you sent up to her were lovely. She told me to thank you ever and ever so much."

"I left another book at the desk, to be sent up to her later," remarked Mrs. Grosvenor.

"Oh, mother will be so pleased!"

"I hope she likes Wells, and hasn't read his latest."

"I'm sure she hasn't. You're awfully kind, Mrs. Grosvenor."

"Not a bit. I've been ill in a hotel-room myself, Laurel, dear. I know what it is like."

"Oh, Miss Dallas!" suddenly somebody exclaimed, close beside Laurel's other shoulder.

Laurel turned and looked up into the eyes of Mrs. Grosvenor's son Richard—her older son. She had two. Richard was a senior in college. He was one of the oldest boys who played with the "crowd." All the girls were "simply crazy" about Richard Grosvenor.

"But he can't see anybody but you, Laurel Dallas," one of the girls who had been sitting on the edge of the pier with Laurel had just told her.

"You're going with me, in my canoe, aren't you?" he now said to Laurel, smiling.