"Yes, dear." Again with the utmost simplicity the elder girl made answer.
"How nice!" said Chris. "But I can't think how you knew," she said, after a moment.
Hilda leaned forward to look into the clear eyes. A faint gleam of anxiety showed for a moment in her own. "But surely you know, Chris!" she said.
"I!" said Chris, with a gay shake of the head. "Oh, no, I don't. You know, I don't believe it's in me to fall in love in the ordinary way. I was quite angry with Rupert only this evening for jeering at me, as if I were. Oh, no, Hilda, I'm not in love like that."
"But, my dear—" Hilda looked down in grave perplexity, not unmixed with apprehension.
Chris leaned back against her quite unconcernedly, her hands clasped round her knees, and laughed like an elf. "Darling, don't look at me like that! It's too funny. Don't you know that it's only you staid, good people who ever fall in love properly? The rest of us only pretend. That's where the romance comes in."
"But, dear, Trevor Mordaunt is in love with you," Hilda reminded her gently.
"Oh yes," said Chris, "I know. That's why I had to accept him. I don't believe even you could have said No to him."
Hilda's face cleared a little. She pinched the soft cheek nearest to her.
"After that, don't talk to me about not being in love!"
"Oh, but really I don't think I am," Chris assured her quite seriously. "I have only once in my life met anyone with whom I could possibly imagine myself falling in love. And he was not a bit like Trevor."