“What's the matter, Kate? You are looking white.”
“Oh,” cried Kate, her voice broken between a sob and a laugh, “won't Harry and Lily enjoy this?”
Ranald gazed at her in fear as if she had suddenly gone mad.
“Lily?” he gasped.
“Yes, Lily,” cried Kate; “didn't you know Lily Langford, Harry's dearest and most devoted?”
“No,” said Ranald; “and it is not you?”
“Not me,” cried Kate, “not in the very least.”
“Oh, Kate, tell me, is this all true? Are you still free? And is there any use?”
“What do you mean?” cried Kate, dancing about in sheer joy, “you silly boy.”
By this time Ranald had got hold of her hands.