Polly raised her head and cast him a reproachful glance, while with a limp wave of the hand she indicated a chair.
I settled myself and inquired reassuringly, "Well, Polly, what's the trouble?"
"You tell him," said Polly to Terry, as she settled herself to cry again.
"I'll tell you," said Terry, glancing warily at me, "but it's a secret, remember. You mustn't let any of those horrid newspaper men get hold of it. Miss Mathers would hate awfully to have anything like this get into the papers."
"Oh, go on, Terry," said I, crossly, "if you've got anything to tell, for heaven's sake tell it!"
"Well, as far as we'd got when you interrupted, was that that afternoon in the cave she and Radnor had somehow got separated from the rest of the party and gone on ahead. They sat down to wait for the others on the fallen column, and while they were waiting Radnor asked her to marry him, for the seventh—or was it the eighth time?"
"The seventh, I think," said Polly.
"It's happened so often that, she's sort of lost track; but anyway, she replied by asking him if he knew the truth about the ghost. He said, yes, he did, but he couldn't tell her; it was somebody else's secret. On his word of honor though there was nothing that he was to blame for. She said she wouldn't marry a man who had secrets. He said that unless she took him now, she would never have the chance again; it was the last time he was going to ask her—is that straight, Miss Mathers?"
"Y-yes," sobbed Polly from the depths of her cushion.
Terry proceeded with a fast broadening smile; it was evident that he enjoyed the recital.