"Stay!" cried Clara. "Will you not get into the cab, and let me drive you home?"
"Drive! It is an affair of some two or three minutes at most."
"Well, then, if you have half an hour to spare, let me drive you round the square, and then drop you at home. I have been wanting for three or four days past to speak to you quietly. I can't bear to lose this rare opportunity. We do not meet very often." Then seeing that her friend hesitated, she asked, "Are you thinking about the cost of the cab for me?"
"Yes," answered May frankly.
"I thought so! That is just like you. But, indeed, you need have no scruples. The cab is engaged for the afternoon. When I sing at people's houses, unless they send a carriage for me, the cab-fare is 'considered in my wages.' Do come in!"
May complied, and the cab moved away slowly.
When they had proceeded a few yards, Clara said, "I wanted to tell you—I think it right to tell you—something I have learned on good authority. Your father—I hope it won't distress you—is really married."
May's first thought was that here again her Aunt Pauline had deceived her!
"Are you sure?" she asked.
"Yes, I think I may say so."