Again her friend hung fire. “Do you remember something you said to me down there in August?”
She looked vague but quite unembarrassed. “I remember but too well that I chattered.”
“You declared to me that you knew everything.”
“Oh yes—and I said so to Mitchy too.”
“Well, my dear child, you don’t.”
“Because I don’t know—?”
“Yes, what makes ME the victim of his insatiable benevolence.”
“Ah well, if you’ve no doubt of it yourself that’s all that’s required. I’m quite GLAD to hear of something I don’t know,” Nanda pursued. “And we’re to have Harold too,” she repeated.
“As a beneficiary? Then we SHALL fill up! Harold will give us a stamp.”
“Won’t he? I hear of nothing but his success. Mother wrote me that people are frantic for him; and,” said the girl after an instant, “do you know what Cousin Jane wrote me?”