"Did he ever make love to you? Tell me—this instant!"
"No. That is——"
"Did he ever kiss you?"
"No, no, no—a thousand times no! Aren't you ashamed of yourself, to have asked such a question?"
"Yes—I am!" said Kate, "and I sincerely beg your pardon, but—here, dear, let me dry your eyes. You poor little darling, has Harry been a brute? Oh, won't I make life miserable for him when I get him alone, at home? There, dear! If your own sister isn't here to comfort you, you shan't lack another. Come down stairs with me; Jermyn is here, and I want you to look your prettiest."
"It isn't necessary," said Fenie, trying to clear her face of the traces of sorrow and anger. "He's no eyes for any one else when you're present."
"You darling girl! Say that again—and again!"
"Old chap," Jermyn was saying to Harry, "I don't know what has been the trouble, but I know the nature of it, for I've seen signs of it in many other men who have been in love. Take all the blame to yourself—do! 'Tis the privilege of men to relieve women of all of that sort of thing they can."
"'Tis very well for you to talk," grumbled Harry. "'They jest at scars that never felt a wound.' But——"
"But, you blessed idiot, do you know what you are in danger of losing? Fenie is one of the sweetest little women on the face of the earth."