human
What a pity you can't wear your hair down all the time, Jo! Men adore hair, don't they? And yours has a regular patina on it, like old bronze.
gpt
Not greenish, I hope,
human
No--sort of orangish. Dark, with an orange lining.
gpt
Betty! It sounds horrible!
human
Well, you know very well it isn't.--May Rossiter thinks you are awfully clever to wear it that simple way, too, so straight and plain, when the rest of us stick out like mops. She says you're awfully clever about lots of things--too smart for the likes of us.
gpt
Does she? Joan was a little startled and not quite pleased. She had not intended to give the impression of cleverness. It was out of her present rôle entirely.
human
I wonder what Mrs. Rossiter meant by that?
gpt
Oh, men, of course, yawned Betty.
human
You see you've annexed a few of hers, which naturally makes her peevish.
gpt
Have I? murmured Joan.
human
Who, for instance?
gpt
Well, Uncle Neddy, for one.
human
Oh! So she _was_ one of his flames, then?
gpt
You mean to say you didn't know it? One of them! _The_ one, my child! Surely you remember about his broken heart?--the married lady he was recovering from in Washington last year? Well, May's it. Of course I'm not supposed to know, being an _ingénue_--but our Neddy was frightfully gone on her, and she returned it, and the husband she had then got jealous (rather a bounder he was, not one of us, you know), and there was some sort of excitement, and she divorced him. Every one thought to marry Uncle Ned, of course. But instead she upped and married Mr. Rossiter! Joke on Neddy, wasn't it?
human
What a romantic love story! Why do you suppose she married that old Mr. Rossiter?
gpt
Awfully rich, my dear. And Neddy isn't.
human
But they seem friendly enough still, she and Mr. Desmond?
gpt
Oh, of course. Why not? It would be frightfully uncomfortable for the rest of us if they glowered and didn't speak and all that, like quarreling servants. And Uncle Neddy seems to be consoling himself! She twinkled at Joan.
human
That evens things up, you see. But, --she suddenly grew grave--
gpt
You mean, smiled Joan,
human
Too mature for you then, too! You're only a few months older.
gpt
Oh, me--I'm different.
human
You certainly are! I've never seen such a change in any one as a few months have made in you! Sometimes I hardly recognize you for the Jo I used to know at school--so funny and larky, and yet paying no more attention to the boys we used to make eyes at over at the College than if they didn't exist.
gpt
College boys _don't_ exist, said Joan gravely.
human
They're like tadpoles, just a transition state. And rather disgusting.
gpt
Not half as disgusting as the Uncle Neds! Look here, Joan, Betty blurted out,
human
No, she said in a low voice,
gpt
I'm not!
human
There! That's what I told 'em. (She did not mention whom.)
gpt
The Ritters' guest was different. She _had_ to get married, because she'd been visiting 'round for years, and people were getting tired of it, and she couldn't pay for her clothes. But you, at your age, with all the beaux you must have! Why, you wouldn't touch Uncle Neddy with a ten-foot pole.
human
Why not, Betty? she asked, quietly.
gpt
What's wrong with your uncle? You mean--because he drinks?
human
I don't know exactly, she confessed,
gpt
I see!