"I daresay she did. I don't remember."
"Well, Harry; you need not be cross with me because I love the girl who is going to be your wife. You would not like it if I did not care about her."
"I hate being called cross."
"Suppose I were to say that I hated your being cross. I'm sure I do;—and you are going away to-morrow, too. You have hardly said a nice word to me since you have been home."
Harry threw himself back into a chair almost in despair. He was not enough a hypocrite to say nice words when his heart within him was not at ease. He could not bring himself to pretend that things were pleasant.
"If you are in trouble, Harry, I will not go on teasing you."
"I am in trouble," he said.
"And cannot I help you?"
"No; you cannot help me. No one can help me. But do not ask any questions."
"Oh, Harry! is it about money?"