Lillie's face was growing pale. She could not speak.
"Yes, yes of course," said Silverdale smiling. "They call you Little Dolly."
"Little Dolly!" she repeated to herself, mumbling and chuckling. "Little Dolly."
"So you have been reading about Miss Dulcimer!" said Silverdale pleasantly.
"Yes, yes," said the old lady, looking up with a start. "Little Lillie Dulcimer. Foundress of the Old Maids' Club. That's the thing for me, I thought to myself. That'll punish Philip. That'll punish him for being away so long. When he comes home and finds Little Dolly is an old maid, won't he be sorry, poor Philip? But I can't help it. I said I would punish him and I will."
All the blood had left Lillie's cheek—she trembled and caught hold of Lord Silverdale's arm.
"I shan't have you now, Philip," the creaking tones of the old lady continued after a pause. "The rules will not allow it, will they, Miss Dulcimer? It is not enough that I am young and beautiful, I must reject somebody—and I have nobody else to reject but you, Philip. You are the only man I have ever loved. Oh my Philip! My poor Philip!"
She began to wring her hands. Lillie pressed closer to Lord Silverdale and her grasp on his arm tightened.
"Very well, we will put your name on the books at once," said the Honorary Trier, in bluff, hearty tones.
Little Dolly looked up smiling. "Then I'm an old maid!" she cried ecstatically. "Already! Little Dolly an old maid! Already! Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!"