“What do YOU mean?”
“You needn't tell me you don't know why Ranald comes. Do you want him to come?”
“Why, of course I do; how silly you are.”
“Well,” said Kate, deliberately, “I would rather be silly than cruel and unkind.”
“Why, Kate, how dreadful of you!” exclaimed Maimie; “'cruel and unkind!'”
“Yes.” said Kate; “you are not treating Ranald well. You should not encourage him to—to—care for you when you do not mean to—to—go on with it.”
“Oh, what nonsense; Ranald is not a baby; he will not take any hurt.”
“Oh, Maimie,” said Kate, and her voice was low and earnest, “Ranald is not like other men. He does not understand things. He loves you and he will love you more every day if you let him. Why don't you let him go?”
“Let him go!” cried Maimie, “who's keeping him?” But as she spoke the flush in her cheek and the warm light in her eye told more clearly than words that she did not mean to let him go just then.
“You are,” said Kate, “and you are making him love you.”