"Yes?" coldly. "Well, hurry, then; they are waiting for me in the tennis-ground."
"It seems to me that some one is always waiting for you now when I want to speak to you," says the young man, bitterly.
"For me?" with a would-be-astonished uplifting of her straight brows. "Oh, no, I am not in such request at Herst. I am ready to listen to you at any time; although I must confess I do not take kindly to lecturing."
"Do I lecture you?"
"Do not let us waste time going into details: ask me this all-important question and let me be gone."
"I want to know"—severely, yet anxiously—"whether you really meant all you said yesterday morning?"
"Yesterday morning!" says Miss Massereene, running all her ten little white fingers through her rebellious locks, and glancing up at him despairingly. "Do you really expect me to remember all I may have said yesterday morning? Think how long ago it is."
"Shall I refresh your memory? You gave me to understand that if our engagement came to an end you would be rather relieved than otherwise."
"Did I? How very odd! Yes, by the bye, I do recollect something of the kind. And you led up to it, did you not?—almost asked me to say it, I think, by your unkind remarks."
"Let us keep to the truth," says Luttrell, sternly. "You know such an idea would never cross my mind. While you—I hardly know what to think. All last night you devoted yourself to Shadwell."