She rallied finely under the reviving compliment. "My dear, it's a case of quality, not quantity—" Her past was so present to them both that he almost understood her to say, "this time."
"I see," he said. "The wings. But nothing's settled?"
"It's settled right enough," said she, by which he understood her to imply that the "angel's" case was. She had settled him. Majendie could see her doing it. His imagination played lightly with the preposterous idea. He conceived her in the act of bringing down her bird of heaven, actually "winging him."
"But it's not given out yet."
"I see."
"You're the first I've told, except Topsy. Topsy knows it. So you mustn't tell anybody else."
"I never tell anybody anything," said he.
He gathered that it was not quite so settled as she wished him to suppose, and that Lady Cayley anticipated some possible dashing of the cup of matrimony from her lips.
"So I'm not to have panics, in the night, and palpitations, every time I think of it?"
"Certainly not, if it rests with me."