"I know there is! You don't act like yourself at all. Is it—is there something about you and Mr. Barry?"
Louise's throat ached. She did not start, nor did she flush and cry out: "How did you guess?" Her throat ached; it ached cruelly.
"Lou, dear—tell me what's the matter!" implored Hilda, throwing her arms around her sister, and laying her cheek against the other's shoulder a moment.
"I—I can't," faltered Louise.
"Yes, you can. I knew there was something!"
Louise shook her head wretchedly.
"Doesn't he seem the same?"
"Don't, Hilda!" She wriggled nervously.
"Louise!"
"I—I...." She pushed herself free of an embrace which possessed, just now, no comfort. "Please don't say anything more. You mustn't."