“Harry’s letter gives the news, and that is all,” said Graeme.
“But I cannot understand your surprise,” said Mr Millar, not to Mr Snow, but to Graeme. “I thought you must have seen it all along.”
“Did you see it all along?” asked Mr Snow, looking queer.
“I was in Harry’s confidence; but even if I had not been, I am sure I must have seen it. I almost think I knew what was coming before he knew it himself, at the very first.”
“The very first?” repeated Graeme. “When was that? In the spring? Before the time we went to Mrs Roxbury’s, on the evening of the Convocation?”
“Oh! yes! long before that—before Miss Rose came home from the West. Indeed, I think it was love at first sight, as far as Harry was concerned,” added Mr Millar, with an embarrassed laugh, coming suddenly to the knowledge of the fact that Mr Snow was regarding him with curious eyes. But Mr Snow turned his attention to Rose.
“What do you say to that?” asked he.
“I have nothing to say,” said Rose, pettishly. “I was not in Harry’s confidence.”
“So it seems,” said Mr Snow, meditatively.
“I am sure you will like her when you know her better,” said Mr Millar.