"Oh, yes," rejoined her friend, still smiling. "We shall soon be deep in pails and spades and bathing, and buckets and paddling, and a final charming walk with Harry in the moonlight."
As the sentence went on, the smile became more fixed and less pleasant.
"You ought to be ashamed to talk like that," said Adela.
Mrs. Dennison walked up the room and down again.
"So I am," she said, pausing to look down on Adela, and then resuming her walk.
"I wish to goodness this Omofaga affair—yes, and Mr. Ruston too—had never been invented. It seems to set us all wrong."
"Wrong!" cried Mrs. Dennison. "Oh, yes, if it's wrong to have something one can take a little interest in!"
"You're hopeless to-day, Maggie. I shall go away. What did you take his hand for?"
"Nothing. I tell you I was excited."
"Well, I think he's a man one ought to keep cool with."