"You mean—" I forced the words through stiff lips.
"I mean she is trying her best to make Dicky fall in love with her, but she isn't going to succeed."
"But I am afraid she has succeeded!" The wail broke from me almost without my own volition.
"Why?" The monosyllable was sharp with anxiety.
I knew better than to keep my part of the story from her. I told her of Dicky's growing coldness to me, his anxiety to get the train upon which Miss Draper traveled, the neighborhood gossip, his determination not to have me meet her sister. I also laid bare the coldness with which I had treated the girl, and my determination never to say a word which would lead Dicky to believe I was jealous of her.
When I had finished Lillian leaned back in her chair and laughed lightly.
"Is that all?" she demanded. "I thought you had something really serious to tell me. If you'll do exactly as I tell you we'll beat this game hands down."
"I'll do just as you say," I responded, although it humiliated me to be put in the position of trying to beat any game, the stake of which was my husband's affections.
"Well, then, that is settled," she said, rising. "Now, for the first gun of the campaign. Call Dicky up, tell him you just lunched with me, and you are ready to go home any time he is."
"Oh, I can't do that," I said. "I couldn't bear to feel that he might prefer to take the train with her."