"That is what I supposed myself," replied Mildred demurely; "but I wanted to be sure I didn't exaggerate."
"Too seriously so for you to make merry over it," continued Clover, shaking her head.
"Well, if you aren't a pair of you!" exclaimed Mildred, bursting into laughter, which she endeavored to repress out of consideration of the lateness of the hour. Then she seized her sister's astonished face between her hands and kissed her repeatedly. "I suppose there isn't another man in the world beside Jack Van Tassel, is there? How glad I am, I am not attached to him; I should be wildly jealous."
"Oh—let me go, Mildred. I didn't know you meant—I didn't know that any one noticed"— Clover was as red as her namesake, and looking everywhere except at her sister.
"Noticed! Why, my dear, he was a perfect spectacle. I fancy everybody in the room noticed except himself. He doesn't know what is the matter with him, either. He asked me once, when we were out on the piazza, if there wasn't some malaria here. He isn't able to sleep of late, and his appetite isn't right." Mildred went off into a peal of laughter.
"Hush. Do please hush, Milly," implored poor crimson Clover in an agony. "Supposing Hilda should hear you and come in. She will. Oh, please."
"He said he thought he should take—oh dear, I'm hurting myself—he thought he should take quinine!" Mildred wiped her eyes; "and I said—I was of the opinion—oh my! that something sweet would help him more; extract of Clover, perhaps."
"Mildred, tell me instantly you didn't say that!"
"Well, not quite so much as that; but he tempted me dreadfully."
"Go to bed, Milly. Go to bed straight off. It is late."