"Oh, mamma!" Here she knelt down and hid her face in her mother's lap.
"Oh, my dear, this is very bad;—very bad indeed."
"It needn't be bad for you, mamma; or for papa."
"Is it bad for you, my child?"
"No, mamma; except of course that I am sorry that it should be so."
"What did you say to him?"
"Of course I told him that it was impossible. He is only a boy, and I told him so."
"You made him no promise."
"No, mamma; no! A promise! Oh dear no! Of course it is impossible. I knew that. I never dreamed of anything of the kind; but he said it all there out on the lawn."
"Had he come on purpose?"