“I shall never get married,” said Charlotte.
“Nonsense, honey! 'Deed you will.”
“No, I shall not. I shall stay with papa.”
“Yes, you will. Say, honey, Robert”—Ina said Robert quite easily and prettily now—“Robert has a stunning cousin, young enough to be his son. His name is Floyd—Floyd Arms. Isn't that a dear name? And his father has just died, and he has the next place to ours.”
“Don't be foolish, dear.”
“Robert says he is a fine fellow.”
“I know all about him. I have seen Floyd Arms,” said Charlotte, rather contemptuously.
“Oh, so you have! He was home that last time you were in Acton, wasn't he? You spoke of him when you came home.”
“Yes, the last term I was at school,” said Charlotte. “Let me pin your veil, sweetheart.”
“Don't you think he was handsome?”