"It will last for ever and ever." She took off her hat. "Don't you want to know who it is?"
"Is it that Wilkinson with the undeveloped head?"
"It's a beautiful head—classic. Theresa, you are horrid. I thought you would understand."
"I do, and I'm not a bit disturbed. He will never be my brother-in-law. You've too much sense—somewhere. Now do your crying, and then get into bed. It's rather cold all alone."
"I'm burning," said Grace. She would not be snubbed, and she hummed gaily instead of weeping.
"Did he ask you to-night?" said Theresa, unwillingly curious.
"Yes."
"Where?"
"I'm not going to tell you."
"Oh, all right. I asked Bessie to leave out your milk and biscuits. Did you have them?"