Eleanor neither ate nor gossiped; but she, too, watched Edith--and listened. Bingo, in his mistress's lap, had snarled at Johnny when he took Eleanor's empty cup away, which led Edith to say that he was jealous. "I don't call it 'jealous,'" Eleanor said, "to be fond of a person." "You can't _really_ be fond of anybody, and be jealous," Edith announced; "or if you are, it is just Bingoism." This brought a quick protest from Eleanor, which was followed by the inevitable discussion; Edith began it by quoting, "'Love forgets self, and jealousy remembers self.'" Maurice grinned and said nothing--it was enough for him to see Eleanor hit, _hard_! But Johnny protested: "If your girl monkeys round with another fellow," he said, "you have a right to be jealous." "Of course," said Eleanor. "No, sir!" said Edith. "You have a right to be _unhappy._ If the other fellow's nicer than you--I mean if he has something that attracts her that you haven't, of course you'd be unhappy! (though you could get busy and _be_ nice yourself.) Or, if he's not as nice as you, you'd be unhappy, because you'd be so awfully disappointed in her. But there's no jealousy about _that_ kind of thing! Jealousy is hogging all the love for yourself. Like Bingo! And _I_ call it plain garden selfishness--and no sense, either, because you don't gain anything by it. Do you think you do, Maurice? ... For Heaven's sake, hand me the sandwiches!" Maurice didn't express his thoughts; he just roared with laughter. Eleanor reddened; Johnny, handing the sandwiches, said that, though Edith generally could reason pretty well--for a woman--in this particular matter she was 'way off. "You are long on logic, Edith," Maurice agreed; "but short on human nature; (she hasn't an idea how the shoe fits!)." "The reason I'm so up on jealousy," Edith explained, complacently, "is because yesterday, in English Lit., our professor worked off a lot of quotations on us. Listen to this (only I can't say just exactly the words!): '_Though jealousy be produced by love, as ashes by fire, yet jealousy_'--oh, what does come next? Oh yes; I know--'_yet jealousy extinguishes love, as ashes smother flames_.'" "Who said that?" Maurice said. Edith said she'd forgotten: "But I bet it's true. I'd simply hate a jealous person, no matter how much they loved me! Wouldn't you, Eleanor? Wouldn't you hate Maurice if he was jealous of you? I declare I don't see how you can be so fond of Bingo!" Maurice, suddenly ashamed of himself for his pleasure in seeing Eleanor hit, was saying, inaudibly, "Good Lord! what will she say next?" To keep her quiet, he said, good-naturedly, "Don't you want to sing, Nelly?" She said, very low, "No." Her throat ached with the pain of knowing that the one little contribution she could make to the occasion was not really wanted!