"I know all his family very well. Why, I 've known Jack Armitage all my life," she raised her eyebrows. "But, Anne, promise you won't let on."
The full significance of the information imparted by her friend gradually rose to supremacy in Anne's mind. Her eyes turned slowly to Sara's face.
"Well, of all idiots I am the worst! Why, I even placed him at Annapolis and then let him turn me off! And mother, too! That's a good one on her. Well! What's his play? I confess I am stumped."
"His play?" Sara regarded her with a significant smile. "I wonder!"
Anne gazed at her a moment and then buried her face in her hands with a mock groan.
"Saints and ministers of grace, defend us!" she exclaimed.
Then girl-like, they clung to each other and laughed and laughed.
"Aren't you flattered?" asked Sara at length.
"Flattered? Oh, you mean about—" she grimaced. "Sara! It's perfectly ridiculous! And it is n't true. The very idea! The audacity! Don't tell me, Sara; there 's something else." But Sara caught the tentative note.
"Oh, naturally," she interposed, "you are far from being sufficiently attractive to draw an ardent young man into a romantic situation, especially—as you told me—after you had written him a note virtually inviting him to try his luck."