“Where to now, papa?”
“Bourne Square, W., my dear, as soon as we can get there. Come along!”
“Myry—Mr Barron passed as we came into the hotel, and only raised his hat.”
“Have papa and he had some misunderstanding over the cards?”
“Perhaps: over the hearts.”
“Edie!” cried Myra, colouring. “What do you mean?”
“He has been proposing for you, and uncle said no; and now he is going to carry us off home to be safe.”
“Proposed for me,” said Myra thoughtfully, and in the most unruffled way, as her eyes assumed a dreamy, wondering look.
“Of course, and you love him dearly, don’t you?”
“I? Oh, no,” said Myra calmly.