"D'you mean Richard Wynn?"
"Yes. There was that. Well, you lost his letter. So he was off——"
"Shouldn't have taken him, anyhow," I protested.
"You said you would."
"People will say anything," I defended myself, "after a day like I'd just had in that office."
"I sometimes think you'd be quite silly enough to accept him yet," declared my candid friend as we tramped past the park trees that gave a glimpse of the white hospital. "But then we come down here. And the very first evening—what happens? A third young man crops up!"
"He didn't crop up to see me."
"Curious that you should be the only girl in the camp that he picked out to speak to," sniffed Elizabeth. "And that the next morning he should make a bee line for that cow-house of yours, and——"
Here she broke off with an alarmingly sudden little screech of "Ow!"
I stopped.