She liked Travers,
and was inclined to take up the cudgels on his behalf.
Stafford's eyes twinkled. On his side he had the rooted and not
unfounded masculine notion that all women are jealous of one another.
"Miss Cary is young and inexperienced and probably did not realize
what she was doing," he retorted. "From what she told me, she takes
the whole matter as a big joke, and now that the fat is in the fire
it's no use enlightening her."
Lois made no immediate answer, though she may have had her doubts on
the subject of Beatrice Cary's inexperience.
"The poor Rajah!" she said, after a pause, as Stafford walked
curiously about the room. "I could not help being sorry for him. He
seemed so eager and enthusiastic and anxious to please us, and we were
so cold and ungrateful. Tell me, does it really make so much
difference?"
He came back to her side. Something in her voice had touched him and
stirred to life a warmth of feeling which was more than that of
friendship.
"What makes so much difference?" he asked, smiling down at her small
troubled face. "What are you worrying yourself about now?"
"Oh, it has always troubled me," she answered with the impetuosity
which characterized her. "I have often worried about it. I mean," she
added, as he laughed at her incoherence, "all that race distinction.
Does it really mean so much? Will it never be bridged over?"
"Never," he said. "It can't be.
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