"You have spoken to her?" he said.
"Yes. Harold, it is of no use. She will never have him."
"Her mother thinks she will."
"Her mother knows what is in Viola no more than she knows what is in that star. Has Dermot never said anything—"
"Lady Diana made everyone promise not to say a word to him."
"Oh!"
"But, Lucy, what hinders it? There's nothing else in the way, is there?"
I did not speak the word, but made a gesture of assent.
"May I know who it is," said Harold in a voice of pain. "Our poor fellow shall never hear."
"Harold," said I, "are you really so ridiculous as to think any girl could care for Eustace while you are by?"