She brightened.
"You are harmful, but necessary," I went on. "We are used to you. We have even acquired a taste for you, I don't know why, or how. But you have an uncanny, unauntlike fascination of your own, which we all feel. At times it is even akin to pain."
"Oh well, the pain will soon be over," said she. "We're at Utrecht now. Soon we'll be going to Zeeland, from Zeeland back to Rotterdam; and that's the end of the trip—and my engagement. It will be 'good-by' then."
"I feel now as if it would be good-by to everything," I sighed. "I never nursed a fond gazelle——"
"You tried to nurse two," said she. "You're like the dog who dropped the substance for the shadow."
"Which is which, please?—though to specify would perhaps be ungallant to both. Besides, I haven't dropped either of them. If Phyllis is lost to me, I may still be able to fall back on Nell, whom nobody else seems to claim at present."
"Oh, don't they?" murmured the L.C.P.
"Do they?"
"She may have left dozens of adorers at home, to pick up again when she goes back. She's a beautiful girl," said her chaperon.
"Radiantly so, and I used to think also possessed of a beautiful disposition. But since she flew out at poor little Phyllis, who was asking for advice and comfort, and cried, 'I hate you, Phil—' Now, you're a woman. What had Phyllis said to put her in a rage?"