“I couldn’t,” said Bessie, with the slowest gravest gentlest of headshakes.
“He’s really such a dear,” Mrs. Westgate pursued.
“I couldn’t,” Bessie repeated.
“If it’s only,” her sister added, “because those women will think they succeeded—that they paralysed us!”
Our young lady turned away, but presently added: “They were interesting. I should have liked to see them again.”
“So should I!” cried Mrs. Westgate, with much point.
“And I should have liked to see the Castle,” said Bessie. “But now we must leave England.”
Her sister’s eyes studied her. “You won’t wait to go to the National Gallery?”
“Not now.”
“Nor to Canterbury Cathedral?”