“You are a goose not to catch him in your own net.”
“Major Rockley?”
“Yes; he is rich and handsome. I wish I’d had him instead of Frank.”
“May, dear May!”
“Oh, I know: it’s only talk. But, I say, dear, have you heard about old Drelincourt? So shocking! In mourning, too. They say she is mad to marry some one. There, good-bye. Don’t crush my bonnet. Oh, of course; yes, I’m going to be as prudish as you, and so careful. Well, what is it?”
“May, you cannot deceive me; you have something on your mind.”
“I? Nonsense! Absurd!”
“You were going to tell me something; to ask me to help you, I am sure.”
“Well—perhaps—yes,” said the little thing, with scarlet face. “But you frightened me out of it. I daren’t now. Next time. Good-bye; good-bye; good-bye.”
She rattled these last words out hastily, kissed her sister, and hurried, in a strangely excited manner, from the room.