"No! It would be too much trouble. I'll meet you half-way, and study clearness next time."
"What are you two talking about?" said Molly, resting on her light spade.
"It's only a discussion on the best way of administering compliments," said Cynthia, taking up her flower-basket again, but not going out of the reach of the conversation.
"I don't like them at all in any way," said Molly. "But, perhaps, it's rather sour grapes with me," she added.
"Nonsense!" said Osborne. "Shall I tell you what I heard of you at the ball?"
"Or shall I provoke Mr. Preston," said Cynthia, "to begin upon you? It's like turning a tap, such a stream of pretty speeches flows out at the moment." Her lip curled with scorn.
"For you, perhaps," said Molly; "but not for me."
"For any woman. It's his notion of making himself agreeable. If you dare me, Molly, I'll try the experiment, and you'll see with what success."
"No, don't, pray!" said Molly, in a hurry. "I do so dislike him!"
"Why?" said Osborne, roused to a little curiosity by her vehemence.