“I think I did, my dear, considering I was especially keen on her marrying my brother, even when I knew she liked somebody else.”
“Oh, that was only for him.”
“Or, perhaps, do you think a little for me? I might have felt if my brother married your greatest friend that we were sort of relations,” he said, with a laugh.
Bertha glanced at the clock.
“You can’t send me away just this minute,” he said. “You like honesty and frankness, and I’ve honestly come to ask you—are you coming to my party?”
Bertha paused a moment.
“Why?” she said. “Do you very particularly want me to?”
“Very. And I’ll tell you the reason. It’s to please Mary.”
“Why should Mary care?”
“Bertha, I give you my word that she’ll be terribly disappointed and offended if you don’t. And”—he waited a moment—“I hardly know how to explain—it’ll do me harm if you don’t come—you and Percy. I can’t exactly explain. Do me this good turn, Bertha. A special favour, won’t you?”