"But what do you say?" cried Henry, rising up on his sofa, and speaking quite sharply.
"I? Oh, I shall consider of it."
At that moment Mary Ashley appeared on the terrace outside; a small basket and a pair of scissors in her hand. Henry called to her. "Are you going to cut more flowers?"
"Yes. Mamma has sent the others away. She said they were fading." Seeing William there, she nodded to him, her colour rising.
"I say, Mary—he has come here to bring some news," went on Henry. "What do you suppose it is?"
"Mamma has told me. About Herbert Dare."
"Not that. He is going to make himself into a respectable man, and marry Sophy Glenn. He came here to announce it. Don't cut too much of that syringa; its sweetness is overpowering in a room."
Mary walked away. William felt excessively annoyed. "You are more dangerous than a child," he exclaimed. "What made you say that?"
And Henry, like a true child, fell back, laughing aloud. "I say, though, comrade, where are you off to?" he called after William, who was leaving the room.
"To cut the flowers for your sister, of course."