"I've noticed that," said Edward reminiscently. "Now let me see just what she meant. She was told that I said I thought she was going away soon. 'Thought' or 'hoped'?"
"'Thought.' Did you say it?"
"And your Aunt Louise said that I must have wanted it to be true," went on Edward slowly, unheeding Ethel Blue's question. "And Gertrude—Miss Merriam said I was too sure and that it was humiliating. Is that straight?"
"Yes. Did you say it?"
Ethel Blue was beginning to think that if she was giving so much information she ought to be given a little in return.
"Do you know what I think about it?" asked Edward, again ignoring Ethel's question. "I don't wonder a bit that she was as mad as hops. Any girl would have been."
"Why?"
"Do you really want me to tell you? Well," continued Edward in her ear, "I dare say you've guessed that I'm in love with Miss Merriam."
Ethel drew a deep breath and stared open-mouthed at Dr. Watkins, who nodded at her gravely.
"I love her very much, and one day she was especially kind to me and I went walking down the street like a peacock and plumped right on to Mr. Clark. We walked along together and he said something about Miss Merriam, and I was jackass enough to say that I hoped—not thought, Ethel Blue, but hoped; do you see the difference?"