We'll wait
awhile, Katy, and see whether we skid before we put on the
chains."
"What about Marian?" inquired Katy.
"I don't know," said Linda thoughtfully. "If Marian is big
enough to come here and spend the summer under the same roof with
Eileen and John Gilman, and have a really restful, enjoyable time
out of it, she is bigger than I am. Come up to the garret; I
think Eileen has brought no more with her than she took away.
We'll bring her trunk down, put it in her room and lay the keys
on top. Don't begin by treating her as a visitor; treat her as
if she were truly my sister. Tell her what you want and how you
want it, exactly as you tell me and as I tell you. If you see
even a suspicion of any of the former objectionable tendencies
popping up, let's check them quick and hard, Katy."
For a week Linda watched Eileen closely. At the end of that time
she was sincere in her conviction that Eileen had been severely
chastened. When she came in contact with Peter Morrison or any
other man they met she was not immediately artificial. She had
learned to be as natural with men as with other women. There
were no pretty postures, no softened vocal modulations, no
childish nonsense on subjects upon which the average child of
these days displays the knowledge of the past-generation
grandmother. When they visited Peter Morrison's house it was
easy to see that Eileen was interested, more interested than any
of them ever before had seen her in any subject outside of
clothing and jewels.
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