It wasn't of the least use to wait for some word from Carolyn; so Prudence said:

"You seem so calm, I suppose everything is all settled."

"What is settled?"

"Your marriage to Lord Maxwell."

For reply Carolyn gave a glance of contemptuous interrogation.

"Oh, yes," Prudence reasserted, "and let me tell you that every girl is not so lucky."

No response.

"I suppose you're flesh and blood, and not wood!" she cried, indignantly.

"I don't think I'm wood."

"I've a great mind to pinch you and see."