“No one will know we are engaged,” she coaxed him. “I mean, no one except the family, because we shan’t announce it in a formal way.”
“Now, listen, Kit!” said Freddy reasonably. “If no one’s to know of it, there ain’t a bit of sense in it!”
A faint flush stole into her cheeks. “Yes, there is, because we are obliged to hoax Uncle Matthew. And—and I think we won’t tell anyone—anyone at all!—that it is all a hum, because—because—perhaps your father would not like it, and—and Uncle Matthew might get to hear the truth!”
“I don’t see that,” said the captious Mr. Standen. “Never stirs outside the house! Who’s to tell him?”
“Jack would, if he knew the truth!” flashed Kitty.
“Well, he wouldn’t if we—” He broke off, as a brilliant solution presented itself to him. “That’s it!” he said. “Wonder I didn’t think of it before. Wonder you didn’t. Ask Jack to do it for you! Daresay he would: done a lot of ramshackle things in his time. Likes being the talk of the town, too. Regular cool hand!”
“Ask Jack!” she repeated, in a very alarming voice. “I wouldn’t ask Jack—I wouldn’t ask Jack even to frank a letter for me!”
“Wouldn’t be any use if you did,” said Freddy, always practical. “He ain’t a Member of Parliament!”
“I hate Jack!” declared Kitty, her bosom heaving.
Freddy was surprised. “Thought you liked him. Had a notion—”