By this time Kit was awake to his surroundings; Helen’s rapier voice had pricked his consciousness.
“So have I, and it’s one I particularly admire, because if you don’t get thinking things you’ll hardly start doing them. I assure you I have not a neighbour whose wife I envy him! There’s another nice commandment, Helen, about bearing false witness against your neighbour, isn’t there? You’re judging me uncharitably, Helen, the fair! What shall I give you when you marry this Mr. Longworthy?” Kit smiled guilelessly.
“Proof that I’m not worth the trouble to remember his name!” said Helen, furiously, tears of rage springing to her eyes. “I could hate you, Christopher Carrington, quite easily, and if ever I do it won’t be well for you!”
“You won’t hate me, Nell; you’re too good a sport,” said Kit. “Why should you? I’m the same old Kit you’ve known and liked a little bit for so long!”
“Heavens above us, Kit, don’t I know that?” cried Helen, and fairly ran away.
CHAPTER XVIII
Made in Heaven
“MINERVA,” said Miss Carrington, “I am not feeling well. I need diversion.” Minerva scanned her mistress critically, and said:
“You may be pale, but you don’t look sick. You are probably bothered.”
“Do you like him, Minerva?” asked Miss Carrington, peevishly.