'No.'
'How monosyllabic you are,' said the other, while her lip quivered, and her eye lightened. 'Has Sir Carnaby not told you?'
'I never asked him,' was the half-contemptuous response.
'Why?'
'I was not aware that matters were in such a state of progression. A time is named, then, for—for this affaire de fantasie?'
'A month from to-day. Pray call it an affaire du cœur.'
'A month!' repeated Clare, dreamily.
'He would have it, he was so impatient,' said Evelyn Desmond, with something of a smile; but whether it was a triumphant or malignant one, Clare cared not to analyze. She only feared that the 'impatience' had been elsewhere, as Evelyn had been on the point of marrying with more than one man already, but there was always a flaw somewhere, and the affairs ended. Perhaps, as some hinted, they were too easily begun.
As she could neither express pleasure or congratulation, Clare fanned herself in silence, until Evelyn said:
'And so you have refused Harvey?'