come to know Mr.
Huntington better you will admire his mathematical precision: he is
never late, but he never arrives a moment earlier than is necessary. The
breakfast hour is over at nine-thirty; at nine-fifteen you will observe
the gentleman leisurely strolling in the direction of his table, with
every detail of his morning dress perfectly adjusted, as if the world
had placed all its time at his disposal, when in reality he can just get
his order in and have it served hot."
The girl smiled at the description of his friend. "Not many men are so
dependable," she commented.
"There is only one William Montgomery Huntington," Cosden admitted
cheerfully. "It would be exactly the same if the closing of the
breakfast room was four-thirty instead of nine-thirty."
The smile on her face changed to a deeper expression as she looked out
across the harbor. She turned to Cosden suddenly.
"Wasn't he splendid last evening when he talked about the
responsibilities of college life! For the first time I wished I were a
boy!"
"He is a very intense person on some subjects; that happens to be one of
them."
The girl could not fail to interest Cosden, even if he were not already
attracted by his previous slight acquaintance, for the present mood
showed her at her best. The nickname "Merry," given to distinguish the
younger Marian from her mother, scarcely served as a descriptive
appellation, for underneath the girlish vivacity ran a serious vein
which gave her unusual poise, and made her seem older than she was. To
Cosden she appeared at that moment the embodiment of attractive
girlhood, for the big panama, almost encircling her face, well set off
the dark hair and the sympathetic brown eyes, while the color which
plainly showed in her cheeks, despite the depth of the complexion, gave
just the touch needed to heighten the effect. The soft lines of the
white flannel skirt and the pink silk sweater disclosed the youth and
litheness of the figure. Cosden was surprised to find himself noticing
these details so carefully, and accepted the fact as evidence that his
interest in the girl was even deeper than he had supposed.
"I love intensity in men," she said simply; "so many seem ashamed to
show it no matter how strongly they may feel!"
"That is due to the training of life," Cosden explained, caring little
what direction the conversation took so long as they became better
acquainted. "The higher up you go, the greater the repress
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