“Mother has times of being very nervous,” Lucy said, in a whisper. “I sometimes think, when she follows me about so, that she is not for the time being quite herself.”
Rose started and looked at the other girl in horror. “Why don't you have a doctor?” said she.
“Oh, I don't mean that she—I don't mean that there is anything serious, only she has always been over-anxious about me, and at times I fancy she is nervous, and then the anxiety grows beyond limit. She always gets over it. I don't mean that—”
“Oh, I didn't know,” said Rose.
“I never mean to be impatient,” Lucy went on, “but to-day I was very tired, and I wanted to see you especially. I wanted to ask you something.”
“What?”
Lucy looked away from Rose. She seemed to shrink within herself. The color faded from her face. “I heard something,” she said, faintly, “but I said I wouldn't believe it until I had asked you.”
“What is it?”
“I heard that you were engaged to marry Mr. Allen.”
Rose flushed and moved away a little from Lucy. “You can contradict the rumor whenever you hear it again,” said she.