"I am quite sure it cannot!" cried Barbara with a burst of enthusiasm.
Marjolaine took both Barbara's hands in hers and forced her to face her. She spoke very earnestly. "Barbara, why are you quite sure?"
Barbara instantly fell into a pretty state of confusion. "Dearest!—how searching you are!"
"Tell me!" insisted Marjolaine, "why are you quite sure?"
Barbara looked this way and that; toyed with the lace on Marjolaine's sleeve; and said quite irrelevantly, "Dearest—did your mother match those lovely silks?"
Marjolaine was not to be put off. "Mr. Basil plays the violin beautifully," she said.
Barbara fluttered exactly like a sparrow taking a sand-bath. She hopped all round Marjolaine. "Oh, dearest!" she chirped. "Oh, you wicked dearest! You have guessed my secret!" Then, if I may put it that way, she perched on Marjolaine's finger and pecked her on each cheek.
"I was sure before I guessed!" laughed Marjolaine.
The Eyesore caught another fish; and, what was equally astonishing, for the first time in his life, he moved from his accustomed place and came nearer the girls.
Barbara put on as solemn a face as she could contrive. "Promise you will never tell a living soul?"