“When is the wedding to be?” asked Ada, as they promenaded.
“I don’t know. Soon,” he said.
She sighed heavily. “Yes, it must be soon,” she said. “I think I shall be almost glad when it is over. I shall have done with life then—done with it forever. Take me to her; I want to speak to her. Oh, do not be afraid,” she said, with a curl of her lip, as he seemed to hesitate. “I have nothing but pleasant things to speak to your future bride, Lord Trafford.”
He led her to Esmeralda, who was surrounded by a circle of admirers, and Lady Ada tactfully contrived to get Esmeralda to herself.
“I have not wished you happiness, Miss Chetwynde,” she said, with a smile that cost her much.
“Thank you,” said Esmeralda, with a flash of her eyes and a sudden blush.
“And in wishing you happiness I am quite confident of the fulfillment of my wish,” said Ada. “You see, I know Lord Trafford so well. Any girl would be happy as his wife.”
“Yes, I think so,” said Esmeralda, slowly, and with her usual startling candor. Lady Ada looked at her.
“You are very confident!” she said, with a smile.
Esmeralda waited a moment to grasp the significance of the sentence.