“What can you mean? He tells me you are engaged to him.”
“Yes—that is, no. I was half engaged. Now I am engaged to Mr. Plowden.”
Dorothy gave a gasp of horrified astonishment.
“Engaged to that man when you were engaged to Ernest! You must be joking.”
“O Dorothy, I am not joking; I wish to Heaven I were. I am engaged to him. I am to marry him in less than a month. O, pity me, I am wretched.”
“You mean to tell me,” said Dorothy rising, “that you are engaged to Mr. Plowden when you love Ernest?”
“Yes, oh yes; I cannot help—”
At that moment the door opened, and Florence entered, attended by Mr. Plowden.
Her keen eyes saw at once that something was wrong, and her intelligence told her what it was. After her bold fashion, she determined to take the bull by the horns. Unless something were done, with Dorothy at her back, Eva might prove obdurate after all.
Advancing, she shook Dorothy cordially by the hand.