In a tone of passionate despair Elizabeth pronounced the name.
"Muriel Elvey!"
"Muriel—oh, my dear girl, no. That's absurd."
But nothing would persuade Elizabeth that it wasn't true. She had seen Muriel, who was so lovely that every man must fall in love with her. She had seen her at the concert, where Colonel Fielding was talking to her every minute that he was not singing. She'd seen her at the Tests, still with Colonel Fielding in attendance. She, Miss Elvey, was staying at The Lodge, where Colonel Fielding was also staying. Oh! Elizabeth knew what would happen.
I wished I did! Personally, I thought it very unlikely that Muriel meant to look at Colonel Fielding; but was she going to marry her host, Captain Holiday? In the meantime she was causing the bitterest jealousy to both me and my poor little chum!
To think that this was Elizabeth who had strafed me about fretting over what any young man had said or done!
"I wish I hadn't come," she mourned; "and now it will almost kill me to go."
Here she stopped, starting as if shot. She lifted her head from her knees and sprang off the low wall.
There had been a rustling of the leaves that I'd thought was the breeze; but Elizabeth had heard and recognized the light footstep that accompanied that rustling.
Another moment and there appeared before us the slim figure and half-girlish face of the man who was the cause of all this agitation.