“Look here, Millie,” he said gloomily, “I want your advice.”
“You’ve done something silly again, I suppose,” she answered loftily.
Glancing shyly at her, he thought that she was looking very pretty. Strange, the number of new things that he was noticing now about the family. But she was pretty—a great deal prettier than Katherine; in fact, the only pretty one of the family. He liked her soft hair, so charming under her large flopping garden-hat, her little nose, her eyes black and sparkling, the colour of her cheeks, her tall and slim body that carried her old cotton dress so gracefully. Everything about her was right and beautiful in a way that no other members of the family could achieve. Katherine was always a little clumsy, although since her engagement to Philip she had taken more care.... There was something light and lovely about Millie that no care would produce if you had not got it. He was proud of her, and would have liked that she should be nice to him.
“Yes,” he said, “I’ve been an awful fool.... I’ve told Aunt Aggie about Philip.”
Millie stopped and stood, staring at him.
“You’ve told Aunt Aggie?” she cried furiously.
“Yes,” he repeated, blushing, as he always did when he was scolded.
“Oh! you silly ass!” She was so deeply exasperated that she could scarcely speak.
“You SILLY ass! I might have guessed it—And yet all the time I’d hoped that at least.... And Aunt Aggie of all people!... and now Katherine and mother!
“Oh, you chattering, blundering idiot!”