“Oh, he said he must get me a sweetheart, and I told him he might save himself the trouble,” said she, lightly. “Don’t you think it very silly of him to say those things to me, mother?”
Mrs. Abercarne paused a moment, and then answered, thoughtfully:
“I think he means to be kind. He always speaks as if he took an interest in you—a great interest.”
Chris glanced quickly at her mother.
“An interest! Oh, yes,” said she.
Then there was another short silence, during which Chris knelt in front of the fireplace and stared intently at the red coals.
“You don’t seem very grateful, dear!”
The girl started.
“Grateful! I? What for?” she asked stupidly.
“Why, Chris, you are in the clouds! What, were you thinking about Mr. Bradfield?”