"Cora's a girl in a thousand," chimed Zoe the tactful. "She worships the ground you walk on, Harry."
A painfully startled look came suddenly into the eyes of the young man. Both ladies felt the look rather than saw it, and gave another sharp turn to the screw.
"Of course, you haven't known it, Harry," said Miss Press. "She wouldn't let you know it. But that's Cora."
"She would rather have died," said Zoe. "You will not breathe a word, of course, Harry. She would never forgive us if she knew we had let on."
"That's her pride," said Miss Press.
"And the way that poor thing cried her eyes out when you didn't turn up at tea time last Sunday as usual, the first time for nearly a year, well——" Language suddenly failed Miss Bonser. "A pretty job we had with her, hadn't we, Gert?"
So cunningly had the screw been applied, that Mr. Harper felt dazed. Suddenly Miss Bonser raised a finger of warning.
"Shush!" It was half a whisper, half a hiss. "Not a word. Here's Cora."
Miss Dobbs came in so abruptly that she nearly caught the injunction. And hardly had she entered, when Miss Press and Miss Bonser rose together and declared that they must really be going.
The hostess made a polite and conventional objection, but both ladies kissed her effusively and hustled her out into the passage.