“Hang it all, ’tain’t me that wants to see you. Don’t you understand?”
Mildred confessed her ignorance, and he was about to explain, when Lilian came up with a letter just received from her sister.
“The Lord help me,” groaned the Judge, while Lilian, thinking he spoke to her, said:
“What, sir?”
“I was swearing to myself,” he replied, and adding in an aside to Mildred: “Come down as quick as you can,” he left the room.
Scarcely had he gone when Lilian began:
“Guess, Milly, what Geraldine has written. She says Lawrence was intending to propose to me while he was here, and she thinks I’d better manage—dear me, what was it she said,” and opening the letter she read: “If he has not already offered himself, and a favorable opportunity should occur, you had better adroitly lead the conversation in that direction. A great deal can sometimes be accomplished by a little skilful management.”
“There, that’s what she wrote, and now, what does she mean for me to do? Why, Mildred, you are putting my combs and brushes in my jewel-box! What ails you?”
“So I am,” returned Mildred. “I am hardly myself this morning.”
“It’s because I’m going away, I suppose; but say, how can I adroitly lead the conversation in that direction?”