“He was diverted by that young woman—a beautiful unexpected girl sitting there.”
“Diverted from his mother and her fond hope?—his mother trembling for his decision?”
“Well”—I pieced it together—“she’s an old friend, older than we know. It was a meeting after a long separation.”
“Yes, such a lot of them as he does know!” Mrs. Nettlepoint sighed.
“Such a lot of them?”
“He has so many female friends—in the most varied circles.”
“Well, we can close round her then,” I returned; “for I on my side know, or used to know, her young man.”
“Her intended?”—she had a light of relief for this.
“The very one she’s going out to. He can’t, by the way,” it occurred to me, “be very young now.”
“How odd it sounds—her muddling after him!” said Mrs. Nettlepoint.