Gertrude put her arm round her. “I wish he would marry you!” she went on.
Charlotte shook herself free. “You must not say such things!” she exclaimed, beneath her breath.
“You like him more than you say, and he likes you more than he knows.”
“This is very cruel of you!” Charlotte Wentworth murmured.
But if it was cruel Gertrude continued pitiless. “Not if it’s true,” she answered. “I wish he would marry you.”
“Please don’t say that.”
“I mean to tell him so!” said Gertrude.
“Oh, Gertrude, Gertrude!” her sister almost moaned.
“Yes, if he speaks to me again about myself. I will say, ‘Why don’t you marry Charlotte? She’s a thousand times better than I.’”
“You are wicked; you are changed!” cried her sister.