They both of them had started for the hall door and in another second they would have met.
“Excuse me,” said Caroline, “I’m in a hurry.”
“That’s plain enough. Another party, I suppose, and dancing.”
“What of it? What’s the matter with dancing, I’d like to know.”
“Nothing is the matter with dancing if you want to, but I must say that it is a pretty way of going on, with the cannon roaring not six miles away.”
“Well, what do you want us to do? Cry about it! I have cried my eyes out already; that would do a heap of good now, wouldn’t it?”
“Oh, I haven’t time to talk about such petty details. I have some important matters to attend to,” he returned loftily.
“It was you that started it,” said the girl.
Wilfred turned suddenly, his manner at once losing its badly assumed lightness.
“Oh, you needn’t try to fool me,” he reproached her; “I know well enough how you have been carrying on since our engagement was broken off. Half a dozen officers proposing to you—a dozen for all I know.”