“Oh, Molly, do stop being Mrs. Grundy.”
Mary lifted her chin.
“Just because I was interested,” she said. “I suppose you’d rather I didn’t care.”
Then she relaxed a little.
“Liz, I’m frightfully excited. Do be pleased and excited too. Why are you so stiff and odd? Isn’t David pleased?”
She had looked away, but she turned quickly at the last words, and fixed her eyes on Elizabeth’s face. And for a moment Elizabeth had been off her guard.
Mary exclaimed.
“Isn’t he pleased? Doesn’t he know? Liz, you don’t mean to tell me——”
“I don’t think you give me much time to tell you anything, Molly,” said Elizabeth.
“He doesn’t know? Liz, what’s happened to you? Why are you so extraordinary? It’s the sort of thing you read about in an early Victorian novel. Do you mean to say that you really haven’t told David? That he doesn’t know?”