"No; that is not my talent: I must continue to be myself. But I saw her on the piazza with Ward to-night; and I detest her."
"With—Mr. Heathcote?"
"Yes. Of course nothing would be so much to her disadvantage as to marry Ward, and she knows it; he has no fortune, and she has none. But she loves to make me wretched. I made the greatest mistake of my life when I let her see once, more than a year ago, how things were."
"How things were?" repeated Anne—that commonplace phrase which carries deep meanings safely because unexpressed.
"Of course there is no necessity to tell you, Crystal, what you must already know—that Ward and I are in a certain way betrothed. It is an old affair: we have known each other always."
"Yes," said the other voice, affirmatively and steadily.
"Some day we shall be married, I suppose: we like each other. But there is no haste at present: I think we both like to be free. Heigh-ho! Do you admire this dress, Crystal?"
"It is very beautiful."
"And yet he only came in and danced with me once!"
"Perhaps he does not care for dancing," said Anne. She was accomplishing each one of her sentences slowly and carefully, like answers in a lesson.