As soon as they were seated in the carriage, she said very gravely, “I wrote you a letter last night, but I burned it this morning.”
“I am sorry for that.”
The words came out with a gasp and a jerk; she did not know that words could choke like that, but she was glad as soon as she had spoken. “Mr. Towne, are you engaged to Sue Greyson?”
“Engaged! And to Sue Greyson!”
“I did not ask to be saucy—I did not believe it—but don’t be heartless—don’t be cruel—don’t be stupid, do think about her, and don’t let her die of shame.”
“Excuse me, Miss Tessa. Why should you talk to me about Sue Greyson?”
“I knew that you would not understand.”
“Perhaps you can explain.”
“I can’t explain; you ought to know.”
“What ought I to know?” he queried, looking down at her with the sunshine in his eyes.