"Oh, Fanny!" murmured poor Redbud.
"Come! no secrets from me! That old Miss Lavinia has treated you badly, I know; I don't know how, but she made you cry, and I will not have anything to say to her, if she is your cousin. Forget all about it, Reddy, and make haste down, Verty is waiting for you—and oh! he's so elegant. I never saw a nicer fellow, and you know I always thought he was handsome. I would set my cap at him," said Miss Fanny, with a womanly air, "if it was'nt for you."
Redbud only murmured something.
"Come on!" cried Fanny, trying to raise her friend forcibly, "I tell you Verty is waiting, and you are only losing so much talk; they never will let our beaux stay long enough, and as to-day's holiday, you will have a nice chat. My cousin Ralph, you know, is coming to see me to-day, and we can have such a nice walk out on the hill—come on, Reddy! we'll have such a fine time!"
Suddenly Miss Fanny caught sight of the tears in Redbud's eyes, and stopped.
"What! crying yet at that old Miss Lavinia!" she said; "how can you mind her so!"
"Oh! I'm very unhappy!" said poor Redbud, bursting into tears; her self-control had given away at last. "Don't mind me, Fanny, but I can't help it—please don't talk any more about Verty, or walking out, or anything."
Fanny looked at her friend for a moment, and the deep sadness on
Redbud's face banished all her laughter.
"Why not talk about him?" she said, sitting down by Redbud.
"Because I can't see him any more."