She gave her hostess a second embrace, laying a cheek
like a June rose against Ellen's more delicately tinted cheek, and
murmuring:
"I never can tell you how I have missed you since that all-conquering
husband of yours brought you off up North. By the way, is that his
photograph?"
She was looking over Ellen's shoulder at a picture in an ivory-and-silver
frame upon the dressing-table. She answered her own question.
"Of course it is. I'd know by the look of him that he must be Red Pepper
Burns." She went over and examined the pictured face closely. "I could
make a better picture of him than that,--I know it without seeing him in
the flesh. What a splendid pair of eyes! Do they look right down into
your inmost thoughts--or do they see only as far as your liver? Fine
head, good mouth, straight nose, chin like a stone wall! Goodness! do you
never meet up with that chin?"
She looked around at Ellen with mischief in her bright brown eyes.
"Of course I do! Would you have a man chinless?"
"Luckily, you have a determined little round chin of your own," Miss
Ruston observed. "And you're happy with him? Yes, I can see it in your
face. Well, now, shall we talk about me? Because I have so little time,
you know, and so much has to be settled before night."
"Tell me all about it at once, dear." And Ellen established her guest in
a high-backed, cushioned wicker chair by the window, and sat down close
by.
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