"Oh, I don't remember."
"But what did you think about it?"
"Well, you see, Lady Rachel, I suppose I thought it was too good of him to believe, and I suppose I wondered if he wouldn't forget about it by-and-by. And do you know, he didn't—that is, I don't think so."
"But, you funny child, you don't tell me at all. Did you promise to marry him?"
"Promise! He never asked me to do that."
"Do you love him, dear?"
"Never asked me to do that, either."
"But, Helen, you dodge like a wild thing. If you don't love him and he expects you to marry him, you must tell him you won't."
"Why?" Helen rumpled her hair with swift hand. "There'd be a frightful fight. You see, Lady Rachel"—plaintively—"whenever I fight with Morgan I get so—so smashed. Don't you know, it makes your bones sore, and gives you a headache. Besides, Morgan always does what he means to do, and he knows all sorts of things, and if he means to marry me I suppose he will, and I suppose he knows—well, whether I love him or not. 'My word!' says Uncle Tad, 'I don't.'"
"Don't what?"