“I am afraid that he—that is—I’m not quite sure that I should tell you that——”
“Let me know what it is you are in doubt about, and I will give you my best advice on this doubtful and delicate point,” said he.
“If you decide that I shouldn’t have told you will you let it be as if I hadn’t told you?” she said, clasping her hands over his arm.
“Certainly I will,” he replied. “The terms are quite honourable.”
“Then I may tell you that an hour after leaving this room he returned.”
“For an umbrella—that’s what they do in plays: they always come back for the umbrella which, with the most careful inadvertency they have left behind them. But he didn’t come back to let you know that owing to the distractions of lunch, he had forgotten to mention that he loved you?”
“Worse—much worse. He came to ask me if I could tell him if Joe had given her promise to marry someone.”
“Heavens above! And did he specify the some one?”
“Oh, dear, no; he had no one—that is to say, he had every one in his mind’s eye. He could not understand how it was possible that so sweet and lovely a girl should have reached the age of twenty-four without having given her promise to marry some man.”
“It does seem a bit queer, doesn’t it? Well?”