"Well, why was Marie afraid to ask him, then?"
"I don't know anything about it. I'm at a disadvantage with you, it seems."
"I'm quite willing to tell you; that's what I'm dining with you for, isn't it?"
"Is it?" said Rokeby, with a very charming smile which but few women knew.
She hurried on: "Yes, it is. You see, I didn't want you to come in and spoil it all, prevent Marie from asking her husband for the perambulator."
"You were awf'ly thoughtful, and I'm sure I didn't want to chip in at the wrong moment; but, I say, would it have mattered so much? Because I'd love to know why; you're interesting me, you know. She could have asked him another time, couldn't she?"
"You see, she was all ready to-night."
"'All ready'?"
"She put on the frock she was married in; and there was the whipped cream he's so fond of, with a cherry pie; and it all seemed so propitious that I thought it would be a pity if you spoilt it."
"You're right. I wouldn't have cut in for the world. But, I say," he cried gleefully, "what guile! What plotfulness! There's no getting even with a woman, is there? Little Mrs. Osborn and you lay your heads together, and she puts on her wedding frock—"