"'Twasn't more than a hint I had: that Captain Bohun--Sir Arthur as he will be--was making up his mind to have Miss Dallory, and she to have him. Miss Mary, is it so?"
"Did madam tell you that?"
"Madam wouldn't be likely to tell me--all of us in Dallory are so much dust under her feet; quite beneath being spoken to. No: 'twas her maid, Parrit, dropped it to me. She had heard it through madam, though."
Mary Dallory laughed a little and flicked the ear of the rough Welsh pony. "I fancy madam would like it," she said.
"Who wouldn't?" rejoined Mrs. Gass. "I put the question to Richard North--Whether there was anything in it? He answered there might be; he knew it was wished for."
"Richard North said that, did he? Of course, so it might be--and may be--for anything he can tell."
"But, my dear Miss Mary, is it so?"
"Well--to tell you the truth, the offer has not yet been made. When it comes, why then--I dare say it will be all right."
"Meaning that you'll accept him."
"Meaning that--oh, but it is not right to tell tales beforehand, even to you, Mrs. Gass," she broke off, with a laugh. "Let the offer come. I wish it would."