'We have always been in the habit of calling each other by our Christian names, and by pet names, too, such as Robbie and Ellie—a bad system—and—and—in fact, you know, Mary, we regarded each other rather as brother and sister than as—as——'
'Lovers—and in this new view of the situation you are no doubt influenced by Sir Redmond Sleath?'
'Perhaps,' replied Ellinor, doggedly, as she watched the hands of the clock.
'If he means honourably—and he dare not mean otherwise—you are perhaps worldly-wise. But poor Robert!'
The exclamation, though uttered low, found an echo in the heart of Ellinor. Yet she was inexorably intent on keeping her invited appointment, of which Mary had not, of course, the least suspicion.
'I do not like Sir Redmond,' said Mary, with a tone of decision.
'Why?' asked Ellinor, changing colour.
'He never looks me straight in the face, and at times, with all his insouciance, he can do nothing but tug out his moustache, as if to show off his white, useless hands. He certainly has hung about you, Ellinor, more than I—considering our friendless and lonely position—have quite relished.'
'Not perhaps more than Captain Colville has hung about you, Mary,' retorted Ellinor, softly; 'and I may as well admit that Sir Redmond always speaks to me of his love, and has asked me to love him in return.'
'He has done this?' exclaimed Mary, growing pale.