"I didn't break any," returned Gwethyn shortly.
"Bad news for me! Well, now, I suppose you're at the trysting-place, waiting for the beloved?"
"Laura'll be turning up soon," grunted Gwethyn.
"Sorry to break your heart instead of your strings! I'm afraid she won't turn up. It's a case of 'he cometh not, she said'. The fair one is false and fickle, and loves another! If you're going to have hysterics, or faint, please give me warning. Poor lone heart!"
"What nonsense you're talking! What do you mean?" asked Gwethyn, laughing in spite of herself.
"It's the sad and solemn truth. Laura Browne, regardless of her appointment with you, is now walking round the kitchen-garden arm-in-arm with another love, and gazing admiringly into her eyes. Your image is wiped from her memory; you are a broken idol, a faded flower, a past episode, a thing of yesterday!"
"For goodness' sake, stop ragging!"
"Well, if you prefer it in plain prose, you're superseded by Phyllis Lowman. She's Mrs. Franklin's niece, and comes occasionally to spend a few days here. She arrived just after dinner. We're not keen on her in the school, but Laura truckles to her to curry favour with Mother Franklin. During her visit the pair will be inseparable, and your poor plaintive nose will be absolutely out of joint."
"I don't believe you!" flared Gwethyn.
"Oh, all right! Go and see for yourself! It isn't I who exaggerate!" and with a malicious little laugh the Toadstool beat a retreat.