"I don't fancy you are quite well."
"Is that all? I fancied you meant—at least, I didn't know what you meant. I'm only awfully tired," said Dolly, with a forced laugh. "If it wasn't for the skating, I should like to lie on the sofa and cry. But that would be so stupid."
"Only, if you are not fit to go—"
"I am fit, and I mean to go." Dolly spoke with a touch of pettishness. "It would be absurd to give in. Just laziness."
The frozen pond lay near the centre of a large meadow, behind the Park garden. A good many people were already assembled there when the Woodlands party arrived. Dolly passed among them, nodding, smiling, shaking hands, but scarcely pausing for an instant until the edge of the pond was reached.
"How do you do, Dolly?" Mervyn said, coming up. "Why!"—and his tone showed great surprise—"Miss Tracy!"
"Didn't you know Miss Tracy was with us?" asked Dolly.
"I really did not. Nobody has had the grace to tell me."
Dorothea could not but be aware of the pleasure in Mervyn's face, and the warmth of his hand-clasp. Her heart beat rather fast: yet the next moment, he was looking with evident admiration at Dolly.
"And I must not hinder that! I must do nothing to hinder that!" she told herself.