“No.”
“Truly?”
“Truly, Fan.”
Neither spoke for a minute, but the heart of one of them beat joyfully and the dusk hid a very happy face.
“Don't you think he cared for you, dear?” asked Fanny, presently. “I don't mean to be prying, but I really thought he did.”
“That's not for me to say, but if it is so, it's only a passing fancy and he'll soon get over it.”
“Do tell me all about it; I'm so interested, and I know something has happened, I hear it in your voice, for I can't see your face.”
“Do you remember the talk we once had after reading one of Miss Edgeworth's stories about not letting one's lovers come to a declaration if one did n't love them?”
“Yes.”
“And you girls said it was n't proper, and I said it was honest, anyway. Well, I always meant to try it if I got a chance, and I have. Mind you, I don't say Mr. Sydney loved me, for he never said so, and never will, now, but I did fancy he rather liked me and might do more if I did n't show him that it was of no use.”