“Isn’t that the least bit rude?” said Margaret.
“No,” said Peter; “my train back leaves in one hour, and I could better afford to lose my chances of heaven. I had no business to come, as it was. But I had to come.”
Margaret sighed. She had hoped that it would not happen so soon. He followed her into the parlor and closed the door behind him.
“First, Margaret,” he said, “I’m going to tell you something that may surprise you a little. It did me; it was so sudden. My sister Ellen is going to be married.”
“Ellen!” exclaimed Margaret. “Why, she always said—” “It’s only been arranged in the last few days,” said Peter, “by many telegrams. I was told to tell you.”
“Is he nice?”
“Yes. He’s a good chap.”
“Rich?”
“Well—rather rising than rich.”
“Who is it?”