"Why," ejaculated Deep Voice, leaning forward and speaking with unexpected animation, "of course he was—she was Lola Hargreaves then. We lived within a mile of one another—my father was the rector of Earlsmead. I remember as if it happened last week, how excited we were when Philip and Lola were engaged; she was only about sixteen—they had always been devoted to one another, and made such a pretty pair, as romantic-looking as Paul and Virginia—and as young;" she paused, slightly out of breath.
"Do go on," drawled Pink Gown, "I know Virginia—she was not drowned—and she did not marry Paul."
"No, though they were engaged for years. Mr. Hargreaves, her father, got into terrible difficulties, and Lola gave up Philip, and married an enormously rich old man—simply to save her family from ruin."
"Oh!" exclaimed the other lady—it was a most eloquent, incredulous monosyllable—"and, pray, what became of Paul?"
"He came tearing home from some place abroad, but it was all no good—it was a question of money and mortgages, and keeping the old place. He was frightfully cut up, for he was madly in love with Lola; he went straight off to India, where, I believe, he has remained ever since."
All this time Angel was wedged in tightly between the deep voice on one side, and a lady who was conscientiously doing the World acrostic on the other. Her parasol she had flung down on the middle of the table, where it was now half covered with papers; she, herself, was entirely concealed behind the weekly Puppet Show, though she could not see a picture, or read a line of print. Should she dash down her screen, snatch her parasol, and fly? While she was anxiously debating the question, Pink Dress said:
"Mr. Waldershare is dead, and his widow is not wealthy; in fact, she is cut off with an annuity of four hundred pounds a year, so perhaps she will come out here and look for her old love."
"Too late," announced Deep Voice, with tragic emphasis (she had the voice of a stage queen); "he is married—he married two years ago."
"Oh, really; I did not know."
"If you had been out here two years ago, you would have heard a good deal about it. He married his ward, a giddy child, who ran away to him from school. When she arrived, he was fearfully taken aback—and so was the station."