"Then 'Love in a Cloud' was written by some one we know," she observed reflectively. "When did you write to him last?"
"When I was here yesterday, waiting for you to go to the matinée."
"Do you expect to recognize this unknown paragon?" asked Mrs. Harbinger with an air perhaps a thought too dispassionate.
A charming blush came over May's face, but she answered with perfect readiness:—
"He asked me to give him a sign."
"What kind of a sign?"
"He said he would wear any flower I named if I would—"
"Would wear one, too, you minx! That's why you have a red carnation at your throat, is it? Oh, you ought to be shut up on bread and water for a month!"
May showed signs of relapsing again into tears.
"I declare, I think you are just as horrid as you can be," she protested. "I wish I hadn't told you a word. I'm sure there was no need that I should. I—"