“Very!” replied Ralph; but they were not referring to the same subject. He rested his arm on the back of the seat and said softly:
“Never mind that programme just now. Talk to me. I haven’t seen you for months. Mrs Loftus told me that you refused her invitation to The Shanty. I had been hoping to meet you there.”
“And I was sorry not to go, but we were in trouble at the time, and I felt I ought to stay at home. Did you have a good time?”
“Fairly so. It suffered from contrast. It was amusing to meet Miss Bennett in her new rôle.”
“I met her a few weeks ago at the Carlton.”
“So she told me.” There was a meaning expression in his voice which made the blood rush into Hope’s face. He bent nearer to her, his eyes fixed earnestly on hers. “What made you think that? What made you imagine for a moment that she could be engaged to met.”
“I can’t tell you,” replied Hope, truthfully enough. She stared down at the programme, and became intently occupied in plaiting its cover between her fingers. “I knew it was some one whom I had met at The Shanty, and I took for granted that it was you.”
“You can’t truthfully tell me that you thought I was in love with her last year?”
“N-no.”
“Did it ever strike you that I was in love with some one else?” The elbow moved its position and encroached on the corner of her own chair. “Hope, I want you to answer a question. Did you refuse to let me call upon you in town because you knew I loved you, and thought it was impossible to care for me in return?”