Fanny flushed, pleased with the praise.
“You should have been with us in Norway. Why did not your brother bring you?”
“He thought better of it.”
“And you would have come in for a sad time.” She went on to speak of the sadness. “It was a great shock to Mr Wareham to find his friend so ill.”
“Terrible!” cried Lady Fanny, impulsively. “I saw him the day before he had the telegram.”
“Yes?”
“At the Ravenhills’. I was staying with them. Of course, then he knew nothing.” Anne felt as if cold fingers had touched her.
“Ah, you made acquaintance with him at the Ravenhills’?” she remarked carelessly.
“Yes, he came there two or three times,” said Millie’s friend, glad to put an emphasis on the acquaintance. “They know him well, I think; I suppose from having met in Norway. Yesterday, he brought something I had left at their house.”
Anne pondered. She was sure that she was the preferred, but was it not probable that with Wareham, who succeeded so admirably in repressing his feelings, cool judgment might stand arrayed against her, and carry the day? A peep-hole to his heart. What would she not give for it! At that moment she felt as if all that she wanted was—to know.