“Listen all. No, I won’t read it just yet. Arthur, don’t you remember a conversation that you and I had together, soon after Sandy was here?”
“Conversation,” repeated Arthur. “We have talked, that is, you have talked, and I have listened, but as to conversation:—”
“But Arthur, don’t you remember saying something about Emily, and I did not agree with you?”
“I have said a great many times, that I thought Emily a very pretty little creature. If you don’t agree, it shows bad taste.”
“I quite agree. I think her beautiful. She is not very little, however. She is nearly as tall as I am.”
“What is it, Rose?” asked Graeme, stretching out her hand for the letter.
“You’ll spoil your news, with your long preface,” said Will.
“No, but I want Arthur to confess that I am wisest.”
“Oh! I can do that, of course, as regards matters in general; but I should like to hear of this particular case.”
“Well, don’t you remember saying that you did not think Sandy and Emily would ever fall in love?”