Nance gave a little angry laugh.
"When you chance to meet!" she repeated with immense scorn. Then she turned afresh and looked at her sister. "Do you think engaged people ought to have best friends? I wonder what Pierce would say if I were to get flowers and books and things every day——"
Clodagh shut her parasol sharply.
"How can you, Nance! Books and flowers and things everyday! Four times Lord Deerehurst has sent me flowers since we came back to town."
"And how many times has he written to you? And how many times has he called? And why did he come back to town from Tuffnell, instead of going to France with Mr. Serracauld?"
Clodagh looked away across the park.
"He had business in town."
"Business! Was it business that brought him to the flat at nine o'clock the second day after we arrived—and that made you ride with him? Oh, Clo, I wonder, when you think of Walter, that you're—you're not ashamed!" She brought the last word forth with a little gasp.
For a moment Clodagh's face was suffused with red.
"I do not need anybody to tell me how I should care for Walter," she said, after a moment's pause.