'Scarcely possible, if probable, because I was never alone with him in my life, and have rarely seen him except in your presence.'
'Then, why do you take up his defence? You would not have me marry him, would you?'
'Certainly not, for many reasons. In the first place, you do not love him; in the second, your father would not approve of such a match; in the third, you are not suited to him.'
'I understand. Not good enough. But why do you defend him? Do you think it was right of him to say what he did to me?'
'Well, perhaps not. But I think he has been nursing these feelings for you so long, that he began to forget whether they were right or wrong, sensible or foolish; and last night, carried away by the excitement of the day and his own success, and finding himself alone with you—you, probably, more friendly than usual—he forgot his customary prudence, and overstepped the bounds of conventionality.'
'Very well said, Nita. Then it was wrong of me to be friendly, and right of him to make a dunce of himself.'
'Perhaps if you had ever felt as he does, Freda, you might make some excuse for him.'
'I am sure you must have been in love a hundred times, you are so sentimental, and would like to see him run away with me.'
'Quite wrong again.'
'Then what would you like, for I am sure you don't approve of my conduct?'